Joe and Maggie: Behind Locked Doors
by v.m.carjeb
Summary: Maggie finds the key to her heart behind a locked door. Chapter twenty-seven up!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One – The Locked Door

"I hate my job," Maggie said to herself as she mopped a vacant room.

The year was 1973, and a lot had changed. Maggie Evans Shaw returned to Collinsport a month ago to find her cushy job as governess to the rich Collins child quite unnecessary; he had finished out his last year of school at Collinsport High, and he was now attending college. Desperate for work (as her husband left her a year ago), she took Julia Hoffman's advice and applied for the menial job as custodian for the Bangor Institute for the Emotionally Unbalanced. Her job was not only as a custodian, she found out all too late, but also a replacement for any aides that were absent on any given day.

Today, however, she was not that lucky. There she was, in her baggy blue uniform, hair half undone, mopping up a room that was recently vacated by a patient suffering from depression. Maggie wondered to herself if someday she was going to end up like the patient behind the locked door.

On her first day of work, as she mopped through the intensive care unit (called so because the crazier patients were locked up in there), she passed a door unlike all the others. Instead of a window into which you could peer directly at the patient, it had bars so high up, Maggie could hardly see inside, even when standing on her tippy-toes. That day, she asked her superior, Dr. Lombard, about it. She said, "It's none of your business, Mrs. Shaw. Get to work."

Still curious, Maggie had complied, as she had to for every miserable day of the last month. "This is nothing like Collinwood," she grumbled, as she swabbed her mop over a particularly sticky spot, "I'd even prefer the diner."

Just then, Dr. Lombard walked in. Crisply, she said, "Mrs. Shaw, you will be taking Miss Allen's place in the intensive care unit." She sneered at the floor. "As soon as you're done of course." With that, the strict woman left Maggie, who was swearing to herself as she continued mopping the floor.

The first few hours working as an aide weren't bad, but the dragging time seemed to wear on her spirit. Especially in the intensive care unit, where an aide was required every five minutes. Again, Maggie heard a doctor scream for help, so she dropped everything and ran to the source of the panic. Her pulse accelerated when she realized that she was running in the direction of the locked door that had intrigued her.

She paused when she saw the heart-wrenching scene. There was the doctor, grappling with the out-of-control patient. Her heart leapt, then sank again when she recognized her ex-fiancée, Joe Haskell, who had his hands firmly on the doctor's throat. He was screaming, "You'll kill her! You'll kill her!"

The doctor saw Maggie, who was leaning against the door, and yelled, "For God's sake, help me, Mrs. Shaw!"

Maggie forced herself to be strong as she rushed over and tried to pry Joe's hands off the poor doctor's throat. "Come on, Joe, let go." Maggie said in her calmest voice, a tactic that the nurses had taught her on her first aide assignment. "Joe, you have to let him go now." Joe snapped out of whatever state he had been in, and stared at Maggie. His grip loosened. Maggie tried to smile kindly, and said, "That's right, Joe. Let him go. All the way."

Joe continued to stare at her while allowing his hands to drop. "Maggie?"

Maggie looked up to him, afraid to look into his eyes. "Yes, Joe?"

Suddenly, Joe grabbed her by the shoulders, and said frantically, "Maggie, you have to get outta here! Chris – you don't know what he is, Maggie! He'll be here any second!"

Maggie shook her head disbelievingly. "Joe, Chris left town years ago!"

He let go of her shoulders, his face paralyzed with fear. "Did he take Amy?"

"Joe, what does that -."

"Did he take Amy?!"

Cowed, Maggie said in a small voice, "Yes."

Staggering, Joe turned and walked to the blank padded wall next to his bed. Maggie heard a sob escape him. "Little Amy . . . you let him take little Amy . . ."

Maggie let the doctor lead her out of the room. As soon as the door was locked again, the doctor said, "You cannot tell anyone about this room." Maggie hung her head and shook her head in affirmation. When she looked up, the doctor was smiling. "In fact, I'm making you his aide. You'll bring him his meals, clean up after him, and help him regain sanity in any way you can."

"Am I still a custodian?" Maggie asked.

Laughingly, the doctor said, "No. You don't have to worry about that anymore." Maggie couldn't help but smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two – Hallucination or Apparition?

As she stood outside his locked door, Maggie braced herself. Taking a deep breath, she fumbled around for the keys to his door, while trying not to accidentally tip the tray. Locating the right key, she placed it in the lock, and opened it.

The room was dark. He had no windows, only miles of padded surface. Joe was sitting in a shadowy corner, brooding. Quickly, Maggie shut the door behind her and locked it. Her new superior, Doctor Urran, had warned her against that, but she knew that Joe wouldn't hurt her – couldn't hurt her – could he? A faint smile on her face, she approached her ex and said, "I brought your breakfast, Joe." No response. "Joe?" Maggie asked tentatively.

His head tilted slightly. "It won't work."

Her brow furrowed. "What won't work?"

A maniacal laugh escaped him. "You – you're trying to trick me. You want me to think you're Maggie. But I know you're not. You're Angelique." Joe stood quickly, backing up against the wall. "I don't want you to come any closer. In fact, I don't want you at all. I want Maggie." He started roaming aimlessly around the room. "Maggie? Maggie!"

"Joe, _I'm_ Maggie!" she said, coming over to him. "And I'm here, and I'm going to take care of you, Joe." She laid a single hand on his arm. His head turned to look at her. "You're going to get well, Joe, because I'm not gonna let you down. I will be here every day, making sure you get what you need." When Joe didn't say anything in opposition, Maggie added, "I brought you breakfast. Please eat it."

Joe nodded, and went over to the tray. Maggie was supposed to leave him alone, but since she knew she had no other duties, she decided to sit next to him and keep him company. Joe looked up from his plate. "Why are you staring at me?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize," Maggie said, trying to look off in another direction.

As he turned back to his plate, he quickly explained. "I can't eat with people staring at me."

Joe finished his meal in silence, and handed the tray back to Maggie before he returned to his corner. Maggie knew it would be useless to talk to him, so she returned to the aide's kitchen to wash of the plates. Sighing, she knew it would take a lot of effort to revert that angry, hollow man into her loving boyfriend again.

* * *

His lunch was the same – at first, he freaked out about Maggie's sudden appearance, but then he settled down and ate his meal. This time, however, she did not stay with him through lunch.

His next meal was much easier; Joe had become used to Maggie's visits, and immediately grabbed the tray from her. As she turned to leave, she heard a small, lost voice say, "Please, Maggie. Stay with me, huh?"

Slowly Maggie turned around and looked at Joe, who had the most pitiable look in his eyes, like a little boy who had been punished. Maggie smiled, nodded, and said, "Okay."

She sat with him in silence as Joe ate. When he finished, she went to grab the tray from him, but he pulled it away. "Maggie," he whispered, "Don't go yet."

"Why?" Maggie asked.

Darting his eyes around, he said, "Nobody believes me. If you stay, you'll see him, too."

"Who?"

"Tom."

Maggie stared at him disbelievingly. Tom had been dead for almost as long as they'd been broken up. "Joe, Tom is dead. The dead can't come back."

"But he does, Maggie!" Joe said loudly, as if the volume of his voice would change her belief. "He comes right into this room, and he points at me. He points at me and says, 'You're responsible! You killed me!'"

Joe was fairly shaking with pent-up fear of his own hallucinations. Maggie placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, and said, "If you see him, and I don't, will that convince you that he's dead?" Joe nodded. "Then I'll stay."

In silence, they waited. Maggie knew that Doctor Urran would be very disappointed in her – perhaps even fire her – but she had to prove to Joe, at least, that he was hallucinating these haunting visions. An hour passed, and not a single sound had been produced. Exasperated, she said, "Nothing's coming."

"Wait," Joe said, "I can hear him."

For another few minutes, the two of them were huddled together, Joe in fear, Maggie in cautious uncertainty. Suddenly, a bright light lit up the room. Maggie gasped as the form of a man took shape. For a moment, he was unrecognizable, but then Maggie realized that Tom Jennings, dead since 1968, was in this room. He seemed to be floating, as if on a cloud, and every step he took toward them, Maggie could feel her body temperature drop ten degrees. As he inched toward them, he opened his mouth wide, and long, white fangs were all she could see. She buried her face in Joe's shoulder, screaming, "No! It can't be!"

Joe tapped her on the shoulder, and said, "He's gone." Maggie looked up, her face damp with frightened tears. The room was dark again, and the air started to warm. "See?" Joe said, "I told you so."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three – Remembrance is Bliss – or So They Say

The following months marked great improvement for Joe. His hallucinations had almost ceased entirely, and he seemed more coherent, something that five years of constant pressure and medication had not corrected. Dr. Urran claimed that Maggie's treatment and support had helped him tremendously, and Maggie could not disagree with the results – but she wondered what effect it was having on her.

Every day since she witnessed one of Joe's "hallucinations", the vision she saw terrorized her more; every night, she dreamt of a vicious Tom Jennings attacking her in her sleep – and then, things got worse. The past month, she had these vivid dreams about a man breaking into her room, sinking fangs into her sensitive skin on her neck – then taking her to a beautiful room – a room that she had seen many times before, but she didn't know where . . .

Maggie sensed that these were the memories that she had continued to block out for six years – the memories of her kidnapper and what had happened to her during those months when nobody (except one person) actually knew where she was. Everyone said that Willie was her kidnapper, but the images in her dreams didn't seem to mesh with supposed reality.

"Mrs. Shaw, may I remind you of your job?" Dr. Urran said, interrupting Maggie's thoughts as she tried to recollect her memory of last night's nightmare.

Maggie looked down at Joe's tray of food – food that was supposed to be delivered ten minutes ago, along with his medicine. "I'm sorry, Dr. Urran. I'll try not to let it happen again."

"Do better, Maggie," Dr. Urran said kindly, "Never let it happen again."

He smiled pleasantly after her as she took Joe's tray down the hall. Maggie had been aware of the doctor's curious glances at her, and she wondered if he thought more of her than a simple employee.

She located her keys, and opened the iron door. She wondered silently if Joe would ever be released to a more pleasant room, perhaps one with a window – he did seem to be improving.

When she stepped inside, she found Joe waiting patiently for her, yet there was an air of excitement around him. He had gotten used to Maggie being there – and anxious to see her again at every meal. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner had almost become an occasion for him, to once again see that orderly beauty that had once been his.

Maggie smiled at his, handing him his tray. "How are you today, Joe?"

"Better – now," Joe said, grinning pleasantly before shoveling his food. After a couple bites, Joe stopped, a very thoughtful look in his eyes. "When you first came here, Dr. Urran called you 'Mrs. Shaw'." He turned around and faced Maggie. "Are you married?"

Maggie faltered. "I – I was married, yes." Again, a grin crept up on Joe's face. He returned to his breakfast. Maggie wondered if she should ask him more about Tom – they had never mentioned it since, and she wondered if to bring up the subject would be more of a hindrance than a solution. Defying her doubts, Maggie hesitantly asked, "Joe, why did Tom come here?"

Joe stopped eating, his skin slowly turned pale. "Because I'm responsible. I'm responsible, and he can't rest. He blames me."

"But, Joe, he hasn't come for a long time," Maggie said slowly.

"Maybe not while I'm awake," Joe said, "Maybe because you saw him. He doesn't like people to see him." Joe suddenly grew silent. After a long pause, he added softly, "I still see him in my dreams."

"So do I," Maggie said. Joe whipped around to face her. "I also see other things – a shadowy figure, with fangs like Tom's, who crept into my room, and took me away. Joe, I'm convinced that my kidnapper was the same as Tom!" Maggie stared into Joe's blank eyes. Saddened, Maggie asked, "Do you remember that, Joe? When I was missing?"

"Yeah," Joe said vaguely. He also remembered when Maggie came to him one night, and saw Angelique and him together. She had remembered, completely remembered then what had happened to her – but Nicholas took her memory away, and told him never to mention it to her – or else. He knew that Nicholas was gone now, but he still did not know if it was safe to reveal what had really happened to her those two months in 1967. "I remember everything."

"That's good, Joe!" Maggie exclaimed. Joe's tray was empty, and she really knew that she should head back to the office. "Can I have the tray, Joe?"

Joe gave her the tray, but grabbed tightly onto her hand. "If you're really interested, you'll go to Julia. She knows everything."

"What?" Maggie asked, but Joe had fallen silent. Slowly, she headed out the door. Her lunch break was only an hour, and Collinsport was an hour and a half away – but she had to know. She'd go there, no matter what the cost. And hopefully, she'd find out the truth about her disappearance.

* * *

Maggie stood in front of the Old House, talking herself into knocking on the door. Hesitantly, she took the knocker in hand, and rapped three times. Instantly, she heard footsteps coming toward her. The door opened, and Julia Hoffman Collins stood before her. Her face immediately brightened into a smile. "Maggie! What a wonderful surprise!"

Maggie smiled, too, but tried to maintain her business-like composure. "Julia, I have to talk to you. Can I come in?"

"Of course, Maggie." Julia led her into the Drawing Room, a brightened atmosphere since Barnabas' marriage. Julia seated herself in one of the comfy twin brown chairs near the fireplace. "What is it you want to talk to me about?"

Maggie sat down, too. "Those months when I disappeared." Julia's face registered her surprise. "You were my doctor when I returned, weren't you?"

"Yes, but I never found out what had happened. Your memory was too repressive."

"But now I'm beginning to recover those memories, Julia, but I can't seem to place them in any kind of order."

Julia's face changed from merely shocked to frightened. "Which memories have you recovered?"

"A figure entering my room while I was sleeping, then biting me – he took me to another room. I suppose that's when he kidnapped me. That room seems so familiar, though . . . I wish I could place it."

"From what you've told me, you haven't really recovered much, even though you think you have."

"But I know it's not Willie Loomis," Maggie said sternly. Julia turned away from her. "If it wasn't Willie, who was it?"

"Your memories do not indicate one way or the other who it was, from all that you've told me," Julia said hurriedly, "Plus, it does not explain why Willie tried to break into your room."

"He always said that he wanted to save me," Maggie said, "I'm starting to believe that, and I don't know why." Julia shrugged nervously. "Julia, you've got to help me place my memories in some kind of order. I need to know who it was that kidnapped me! The town needs to know!"

"From all I've heard, your case was closed long ago," Julia said.

"But if I can state clearly who the maniac was . . . he could be in another county by now, but this man must be caught. Surely you can see that, Julia."

Reluctantly, Julia nodded. "What do you want me to do, Maggie?"

"You've used hypnosis on me before. Do it again."

Julia's smile faltered. "Maggie, I don't think hypnosis is the answer."

"Well, I think it is," Maggie said, thunking a tape recorder on Barnabas' table. "I brought this to ensure that I hear every detail."

Julia knew that she had no alternative: she had to hypnotize Maggie, and essentially endanger her husband of exposure.

* * *

The lights in the Drawing Room were dimmed, and Maggie sat in her chair. She knew instinctively how this was to be – another memory recovered. In the darkness, she could see Julia taking out a medallion – the same one she had used on everyone from Maggie to Vicky – even on Quentin. Julia started rotating the medallion in front of Maggie's eyes. "Watch the medallion, Maggie, as it spins around. Do you see the flashing lights?"

"Yes."

"Follow the lights, Maggie," Julia said, "Try to find the center. The center of the light." Julia watched as Maggie's eyes scanned the medallion, going deeper and deeper . . . soon, Julia asked, "Have you found the center?"

"Yes."

"After that center, there is another, deeper center. You must find it, Maggie. As you go deeper and deeper into the light, your thoughts will fade away – only the sound of my voice will remain. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Have you found the center yet?"

"I – I -."

"Have you?"

"Yes."

"Good." Julia took the medallion away. "I will count to ten, and after each number, your eyes will become heavier, your body will become more relaxed, and you will fall into your hypnotic state. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. I will start now: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten." After the tenth number, Maggie slumped down, her eyes closed, her body relaxed. "Maggie, tell me what you remember about your kidnapper in 1967."

"It was Barnabas."

Julia paused. Her husband had been indicated immediately – she thought she had more time. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. He kidnapped me and took away my identity. He took me away from all the people I know and love. He tried to make me what he is – a monster! He's a monster!"

"What did he do to you, Maggie?"

"He took away my blood, and made me his slave. I had no will except my own. He made me hurt all the people I love: my father, Vicky, and – and Joe." Tears started sliding down her face. "He tried to make me into Josette Collins, but he couldn't, so he locked me in a cell and wanted to kill me, but I escaped."

"I see," Julia said, "Well, I don't think-."

"And you tried to cover up for him!"

"What?" Julia exclaimed.

"You were the one who made me lose my memory! You're in love with him!"

"Of course I am, I'm married to him," Julia said, trying to be calm.

"How can you be, knowing what he is?"

"Maggie, he isn't a vampire anymore. He's changed."

"I'll never believe that! Never!"

"Maggie, I will start to count backwards from ten. With each number you will find yourself more awake. After you wake, you will remember nothing. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."

Maggie awoke like she had just been in a deep sleep. "Well?" she asked, "What did I say?"

"I suggest you listen to the tape," Julia said sadly. She knew her idyllic life with Barnabas had just come to a crashing end.

Maggie played the tape, and from the first name she mentioned, all the repressed memories started flowing back to her. She knew – she knew! She listened to the entire tape, glaring at Julia. At the tape's end, she said, "How could you, Julia? I thought you were my friend, but I guess I was wrong. Both you and Barnabas have betrayed me." Maggie was shaking with anger and tears. "I'm going to the police."

"Maggie, no!" Julia exclaimed, trying to stop her, but her efforts were futile. Maggie gathered her tape recorder and headed for the door; however, Barnabas stood in her way.

"Where are you going, Maggie?" he asked.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four – Facing the Past

"I said, where are you going?" Barnabas looked at her, seemingly pleasantly, unless you looked in his eyes – they penetrated her soul, filling his face with evil malice.

"I'm not afraid of you!" Maggie exclaimed, her voice trembling with fear, "I know the truth, and you can't stop me from going to the sheriff!"

"Can't I?" Barnabas said quietly, in a deep, dangerous tone.

"Barnabas – just let her go," Julia said from the Drawing Room.

"Let her go?" Barnabas repeated, never taking his eyes off her face, mesmerized by each flicker of fear. "I think not."

"And she said you had changed!" Maggie hissed angrily. "She lied to me, like you both have lied since the very beginning!"

"But I have changed, Maggie," he said, his mouth slowly turning into an evil smile, "Can't you see it?" She shook her head vehemently. "What time is it, Maggie?"

She glanced at the clock above the mantle. "A little after two."

"Is it dark outside?" he patiently asked.

"No," she said slowly.

"There," he said victoriously, raising his chin a little. "You see, Maggie? You have nothing to fear from me. I have changed."

Maggie's brow creased in thought. "How?"

Barnabas' eyes increased their intensity. "Never mind."

"People can't just change like that!" Maggie exclaimed. "You have to tell me!"

"Why?" Barnabas said in an amused tone. "You'll go to the sheriff, he'll investigate, find nothing conclusive, and then go home. You'll be written in the report as suffering from a mental illness of some kind, you'll lose your job, and be stricken from any memory of anyone involved." Maggie lowered her gaze. "Now, that does paint a desolate picture, doesn't it?" Maggie nodded. "I suggest you return to Bangor, and keep your mind on the tasks at hand – not the past. Am I quite clear?"

Maggie's eyes darted upward to his face, all the fire of yesteryear still engraved in her otherwise-innocent eyes. "Yes. You are very clear, Barnabas." Maggie casted a last glare at Julia before departing from the house.

After being yelled at by Doctor Urran for returning two and a half hours late to work, she was given a tray for Joe. In tears from her traumatic experiences both at the Old House and in her workplace, she opened the iron door again. Joe was waiting expectedly for her, anxiously as well as excitedly. "Hello, Maggie," he said.

"Hello, Joe. Here's your tray." She handed him the tray, the turned away so that Joe couldn't see her cry.

However, Joe had heard a familiar catch in Maggie's voice, always a sign of distress. He set his tray down on the bed, and slowly approached her. "Maggie, what's wrong?"

Maggie sighed and wiped away her tears, even though more were on the verge of cascading down her face. "Oh, nothing you can do anything about." She turned around and gave him a watery smile. "How was your day? Did the replacement treat you well?"

"Not since I've gotten used to you," Joe said sincerely, gazing into the fawn-like eyes he had loved so much . . . the eyes he still loved.

Maggie noticed that the mood in the room had changed. Joe started staring at her more intently than usual. Maggie had begun to get nervous – frightened; not because of Joe's re-found love for her, but by the possibility that she, too, could start to look at him differently. Nervously, she said, "Maybe you'd better start on your dinner."

"Okay, Maggie," Joe said, never taking his eyes away.

He didn't make a single move toward his tray. Maggie's nervousness increased, and she said, in almost a panicked voice, "Joe, please."

"What, Maggie?" Joe asked, still gazing at her affectionately.

"Joe, I've had a hard day, so please stop staring at me!" Maggie vented. The shocked and hurt look on Joe's face brought her back to her senses. "I'm sorry, Joe." His expression didn't change. "Look – why don't you sit down there and eat, while I talk to you. Okay?"

"All right," he said in a hurt voice. Reluctantly, he returned to his tray and started to eat. "Did you visit Julia? Is that what took so long?" he asked.

"Yes," Maggie replied through terse lips.

Joe waited for a further answer, but did not get one. "Did you find out what you needed to know?" he finally asked.

"Yes."

Again, no details. Joe, now slightly irritated, asked, "Who was it?"

Maggie debated whether to tell him. "It was Barnabas."

"Barnabas." Joe said angrily. He slammed his tray down on his bed. "He always ruins everything!"

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Maggie said flatly.

Joe whipped around and stared incredulously at her. "You mean you didn't tell the police?"

"I couldn't," Maggie said, her throat beginning to tighten.

"Why not?"

"I just couldn't!" Maggie yelled, tears starting to fall again.

"Oh, Maggie – I'm sorry," Joe said comfortingly as he put an arm around her shoulder. She resituated herself so that she could cry onto his shoulder as he held her. "I'm so sorry." Her crying started to relinquish, and she brought herself up a little bit so that she could look at Joe. Their eyes met for a moment so intense, that Maggie felt her very bones quaking. "Maggie," Joe started.

"It's okay," Maggie whispered. After one last intense look of love, Joe leant over and kissed Maggie – the one woman he loved, and the one woman who he had not – could not – live without.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five – The Haunting of Thomas Jennings

The New Year brought a new room for Joe Haskell – he finally got out of his solitary confinement room into a pleasanter room on the first floor, where all the people near normal stayed. Maggie was still his aide, helping him at every turn. They never talked about the kiss they shared those two months ago; Maggie wasn't sure about another relationship with anyone, let alone the very man who shattered her already hurting heart. Besides, until she was secure in her mind and her heart that Joe would be the same as he was before this misfortune befell him, she was not going to commit to him – not yet, anyway.

They spent New Year's Eve together, and they watched the ball drop, ringing in 1974. This was the year that Maggie would turn 29 – almost thirty, she kept reminding herself. She really hadn't aged that much, but she certainly wasn't the chipmunk-cheeked twenty-one-year-old that Joe Haskell had fallen in love with so long ago; on the other hand, though, Joe certainly wasn't the same. He would turn thirty – hopefully, by then, he would be a changed person, closer to the ideal that Maggie imagined.

When the New Year rang in, Joe and Maggie almost had another incident like before: they looked at each other the same, with the same hopes, desires, and wishes as before – yet they stood back, and wished each other a happy New Year.

That month of January was a very easy one for Joe: his room was bright, his food was better, and he had less medicine. Yet, despite all these progressions, there was one thing he missed: Maggie. Because he had been improving so much, Dr. Urran didn't think it necessary for Maggie to be with Joe as constantly as before. Maggie breathed a sigh of relief, not wanting to replicate the incident aforementioned, but Joe, while improving, lacked a certain zest for getting better that he had obtained while Maggie was his teacher, so to speak.

As Maggie brought in his tray, she prepared herself for what she had to do. It wasn't going to be easy – she was never adept at letting go. She opened the door and tried to be cheery. "Good morning, Joe. I brought your breakfast!"

Joe had the TV on – a new appliance for him, for when he lived in Collinsport, not many people had them – not even the Collinses. He switched off, while Margo was in the process of revealing her new facelift. Joe turned to Maggie, and said, "I don't know why women feel the need to have facelifts. You know, you're twenty-nine-."

"Not until tomorrow," Maggie said, mockingly stern.

Both of them paused for a moment, then laughed. Joe continued, "Anyway, you're close enough to twenty-nine, you may have a wrinkle or two, but I can't see them. A facelift would ruin that pretty, innocent look you always have." His voice became tender at the end, and he looked at her the same as before – the same as before he had his nervous breakdown.

Maggie cleared her throat, and giving him his tray, saying, "Joe, I really have something important to tell you."

Joe looked at her, bewildered. "What is it, Maggie?"

"You'll be released within the week." Even as she said those words, she became choked up. She somehow found her inner strength that had guided her through so much, and forced herself to continue. "You've made so much improvement that they will probably release you two days from now."

"Oh, Maggie!" Joe said, jumping up and holding her to his chest, as she sobbed and let everything flow out.

"I don't want you to go! I've grown so used to seeing you every day – I don't think I could bear being without you for even one of the days that I have to live without you." She looked up at her former boyfriend, tears streaking her face. "I don't want to lose you again."

"Maggie," Joe simply said before kissing her lips. He tried to back out of it, tried not to force himself on her, but she reached up and held his head steady so she could pursue the kiss, trying to eek every ounce of comfort she could gain by knowing that Joe Haskell was there for her then, even though he probably wouldn't be in the future. As she slowly let their lips part, Joe said, "I thought you didn't want this."

"I didn't – but I still can't stand to lose you."

"You won't lose me Maggie," Joe affirmed, "How could you think I could ever let you go?"

"You said good-bye once," Maggie pointed out.

"But that was when I thought I had lost you forever."

"I know," Maggie said, gazing at the floor. "Where will you go?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said, "Maybe I'll get another apartment."

"Maybe with – two bedrooms," Maggie suggested shyly.

Joe shook his head. "Maggie, you know I don't go in for that liberal stuff, living together – either you want to marry me, or you don't."

Maggie was taken aback by Joe's assertiveness on the subject; she had found the idea charming. They wouldn't have to sleep together, merely live in the same house. She wanted to tell him that, but by the look on his face, she knew she couldn't sway him. Now that she thought about it, he had practically said the same thing when they were dating, but they had both been in agreement – now, things were different. Maggie decided to tell him the truth. "Joe . . . I'm not sure if I'm ready to marry again."

"I can understand that, it's just – you've always been a decent girl, and I'd hate people to be talking bad about you," Joe said.

"Joe, things are different now," Maggie explained, "You've been in here a long time."

"Yeah, so I've noticed," Joe said, glaring at the TV, "Didn't know it was legal to kill babies now."

"Joe, that's not the reason Roe v. Wade was fought at all," Maggie said exasperatedly, "It was so women could have some basic rights so that they could choose to do what they will with their bodies."

"It still sounds like baby-killing to me," Joe said stubbornly. "Why are you so for it, Maggie? Have you had one?"

Shocked, Maggie managed a reply. "No, Joe, I haven't. I just happen to agree with the basic idea of women's rights, that's all."

"What, are you a feminist now?" Joe asked, almost offensively.

"Joe Haskell!" Maggie said explosively. "Will you stop? I'm twenty-nine, divorced, and I'm starting to notice some discrepancies in employment as well as financial retribution between men and women. I don't want to label myself as a feminist, because I really don't want to separate myself from men that much, but I suppose in your simple analysis, yes, I suppose I am a feminist."

Joe started shaking his head as he said, "What happened to you, Maggie? You used to be such a nice girl."

"What, just because I'm a feminist, all of a sudden I'm bad?" Maggie said through tense lips.

"No, it's just . . ." Joe bent slightly and put his hands on her shoulders. "Maggie, you didn't used to go in for all this bunk about women's rights, and living in sin, and abortions."

"It's not living in sin if we don't sleep together," Maggie said stubbornly as she pouted slightly.

"Maybe not, but Maggie – I don't know if I should be involved with someone so different from me!"

"Joe, I'm still the same Maggie Evans that you left in 1968!" Maggie exclaimed. "I might be a little older and a little more liberal, but my ideals and my ideology really haven't changed much!" Maggie slowed her breathing a little, trying to get it back to normal. "Besides, I still love you."

"I love you, too," Joe admitted softly. He shrugged, and added, "I guess you're the same as always."

Maggie smiled pleasantly. "Of course. You know me, Joe – I never change." They met again for a kiss. As they kiss, though, the room became bitterly cold, and Maggie shivered next to Joe. "What's happening, Joe?" she said between chattering teeth. Joe simply held on to Maggie, looking frantically around the room for the source of the disturbance. On the mirror under the TV words were scrawled out in black letters: "She will never be yours."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six – Home Again

Maggie and Joe stepped out of her 1973 red Plymouth Duster, and looked at the rolling grey sea as the rain started to fall on all of Collinsport.

The ghost that was in his room before disappeared as quickly as it came, and Joe was released the day afterwards. Maggie and Joe decided to leave Bangor and take up residence once again in Collinsport. She decided to take on the waitress job at the Inn again, and he would resign to the Collinsport Fishing Fleet.

However, that day when the couple returned to Collinsport, Maggie found the diner section of the Collinsport Inn to be closed. The two registered (separate rooms, of course), and then decided to go to Joe's old job, where Roger Collins was still boss. Roger re-hired him on a probation basis, that if he missed one day of work for the next six months, he would be fired on the spot.

After the busy day that they had, they decided to drive down to the beach below Widow's Hill, a place they never used to visit much, but now had special meaning to them: it was home.

Maggie and Joe walked to the front of her car, where their eyes met in silent harmony, while the sounds of waves crashing and the rain falling stirred childhood memories in both of them. They walked slowly to a small log that was placed almost picturesquely under a cliff, so the rain would not fall on them. Their hands slowly, as if by magnetic force, met and intertwined. His blue eyes met her brown ones, and they both felt as if life was always meant to be this way.

Joe's other hand reached up and stroked her brown hair, which was now tangled and wet. He made an attempt to detangle her unruly hair, but as he hit each snag, Maggie laughed and took her hair away from him. They sat together in perfect harmony, never speaking, but almost reading each other's hearts, so full of love for each other that they both might burst.

The rain slowly ceased, and the sun shone through the stormy clouds, but just for a moment. Droplets began to fall again, but Joe and Maggie could not see them; they could not feel the chill left by the water slowly evaporating off their skin. They could only feel the truest love that existed between them.

Finally, Joe broke the silence. "I love you," he said before taking her beautiful face in his hands, and kissing her softly on her lips. "I will always love you."

"I know," Maggie whispered. Joe kissed her again. Seagulls flew by, but the couple didn't take notice; there was no one else in the world but each other. Maggie leaned back against Joe's shoulder, and they just sat there, saying nothing, doing nothing, just perfectly content to be together.

A crack of thunder roared in the distance, but neither of them jumped. Joe asked, "Do you ever miss living at Collinwood?"

Maggie straightened up again. "It's not Collinwood I miss – it's the children, seeing them learn, seeing them grow."

"Maybe you should go to school, learn how to be a teacher," Joe suggested.

"But where?" Maggie asked laughingly.

"There's a new community college on the outskirts of town. You could try there," he said. Maggie became very thoughtful. "Just a thought."

"Yes, and a good one," Maggie said, poking his shoulder in a playful manner.

"I guess that counts for something," Joe said, a mischievous look in his eyes, "Don't I get a reward." Maggie laughed silently, then kissed him on the lips. Joe closed his eyes, then opened them. "Is that all?" he joked.

"Greedy," she said jokingly. She sighed and put her head on his shoulder again. "I don't ever want to leave."

"Where?" Joe asked.

"Here," she explained, "Under this cliff, protected from nature, alone, but not lonely – never lonely, because I have you."

Joe wrapped his arms around her waist. "Maggie, you never have to worry about being alone again. You'll always have me."

"Not always," Maggie said.

"Always," Joe assured her.

"You have to go to work sometimes," Maggie said, an invisible smile on her lips.

"Maggie," Joe sighed as they both broke into spontaneous laughter. As they both quieted their mirth, Joe said, "Seriously, Maggie, I'll always be here for you."

"I know," she sighed contentedly, "You're always a constant in my life."

"What?" Joe scoffed.

"Chemistry talk, sweetie," Maggie said playfully, "I had to take Chemistry to be an orderly."

"What does it even mean?" Joe asked.

"Never mind, the joke's dead," Maggie said, sitting straight again. "What say we go back to the hotel?"

"Do you have a coffee pot in your room?" Joe asked.

"Of course," Maggie said, smiling, "You know me, I always have to have one."

They smiled laughingly at each other, then kissed once more before they took each other's hand and walked back to the car.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven – Square Turned Round

Joe and Maggie eventually found apartments in the same apartment building down the hall from each other. Maggie attended college part-time and worked nights as a waitress in a new pizza parlor that served pasta. Joe did the usual – fishing for the Collinses. Because of Maggie's hectic schedule, they hardly had time to date, but because of the proximity of their rooms, they could see each other on a daily basis.

Joe looked at the clock: seven o'clock. That was the time Maggie got off work. Since she had finished her finals, she didn't have schoolwork any longer, and was free to spend more time with him. He knew she would come straight to his apartment without even shedding her uniform, so he hurried to get his apartment ready. Usually, he wouldn't make a fuss, but he had an ulterior motive this time.

Instead of lights, Joe lit ten candles in all corners of the room. He looked for a suitable record, and found one: _Mud Rock_ by Mud. It was a party album, but he knew Maggie was into this kind of music now. As he put on the record, he heard a familiar knock at his door.

_Rocket_ blaring away, he opened the door to find Maggie standing in the doorway, a shy, flirty smile on her face. Her long brown hair was pulled into a jaunty ponytail. She wore a purple cap, and she looked so virtuous – but her uniform could hardly be called that. Her top was a brown and purple cut-off with a low neck line, and her skirt only covered the necessary. Her shoes were sensible at least, Joe thought. "Maggie," he said smilingly, "Come in."

She walked in and took note of her surroundings. "Is the power out?" she asked.

"No," Joe said, aware of Maggie's questioning, and nervous about her reaction.

"Aren't we romantic tonight," Maggie said, smiling slyly now. She took off her cap, and ran a hand over the top of her head to flatten her hair. She sat down on the plush white sofa in front of the stereo system. She recognized the sound of Mud coming from the speakers and smiled faintly. He knew she liked party music – he knew so much about her.

Joe came around and sat very close to her. "How was your day?" he asked.

"Another jerk swatted me on the butt," Maggie said irritably, "Really, there should be laws against that – or at least rules. I never got pinched or prodded when I worked at the diner."

"Yeah, but you didn't cater to a bunch of sailors," Joe pointed out.

"True." Maggie looked up into her boyfriend's face and smiled wide. "I'm so glad I'm back, though."

"In Collinsport or with me?" Joe asked teasingly

"Both." She kissed him quick, then sat back down. "Is tonight 'talk night'?"

"It's anything you want it to be," Joe said somberly.

"Oh?" Maggie asked, a wicked twinkle in her eye. "Have you suddenly turned liberal, Joe Haskell?"

"What?" Joe laughed. He settled closer to Maggie, his arm surrounding her shoulders. "I meant it, though. You call the shots."

"Do you remember our first date?" Maggie reminisced. A dreamy look filled her face. "You were still dating Carolyn, but you asked me out just the same. We spent the whole evening drinking Irish coffee and talking about boats. But I was happy just to have you all to myself for a couple hours. Remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Joe said. An unreadable expression crossed his face for a moment, but he soon reverted to normal. "I said I wanted to be friends, but really I couldn't believe what a loving, generous, kind woman you were. I wanted so much more, but I couldn't have it."

"Because of Carolyn?"

"Yeah," Joe said angrily. He looked at Maggie's mildly surprised face, and decided to be cheerful again. "But we're together now."

"And you still want so much more."

The two fell into silence. Maggie had voiced Joe's deepest feelings without realizing it. It was supposed to be a joke, but Maggie hoped it was true – and Joe knew it was. Joe cleared his throat and finally answered the comment. "Not until we're married."

"Of course," Maggie said, discouraged. Her face brightened anyhow, to change the mood. "I saw Carolyn today."

"Oh?" Joe said, not really interested. He leaned back onto the couch.

"Yes, and you'll never guess who I saw her with." Joe looked at her, his expression clearly bored, while she was eager to spill this new piece of gossip. Joe shook his head, and Maggie blurted out, "Sebastian!" Joe looked at his girlfriend as if she had gone crazy (he still had no clue who Sebastian was), while Maggie rolled her eyes, and said, "My ex-husband!"

"Oh," he said, getting up from the couch, and strolling over to the record player. "If this is some new tactic, I don't get it."

"New tactic?" Maggie said, confused.

"To make me jealous." Hurt and anger vibrated in every syllable. "I don't care how many of your ex-husbands are in town, I still say we wait until we're married!"

"Joe, I didn't tell you this to make you jealous," Maggie said comfortingly, putting her hand on his shoulder as he faced the wall, "I love you. When we mentioned Carolyn, it just triggered a piece of useless gossip. I don't care that Sebastian's in town. I love you."

"Then why did you sound so happy?" Joe asked, his face still hidden.

"Because, after all Sebastian and I went through, I care for him." Joe winced, and Maggie felt it. "Not in the way that I care for you – I love you. But I'm happy that he's happy. Carolyn always had a crush on him, so I'm happy for her, too."

Joe still wasn't convinced, but he faced Maggie anyway. "That's all there is?"

"Yes," Maggie said mockingly upset. She came closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Now, I'm sure we can find better topics to talk about."

"Yeah," Joe said, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. They kissed passionately, and with each moment that went by, they kissed even more intensely. In the heat of the moment, Maggie jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, and Joe carried her into the bedroom.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight – Rude Awakening

Maggie stirred slightly as Joe's alarm clock trilled. He glanced at her form, covered by his flannel blanket, her hair spread out over the entire pillow. He wondered why she had dyed it brown – he loved the red tints that she naturally had. He jumped out of bed and into the shower.

Maggie's eyes opened to the sound of water running. Joe is still here, she thought as a smile crossed her lips. She dressed once again in her waitress outfit and made the bed. Joe stepped out of the bathroom soaking wet, wearing a towel. "You didn't have to do that," he said.

Maggie shrugged. "I'm a naturally clean person."

Joe smirked. "Yeah, I know."

They continued to stare at each other until Maggie said, "I guess I should let you get dressed."

"Yeah." Joe and Maggie still were interlocked spiritually – they could not turn away from each other's eyes. Joe laughed a bit, and said, "I really should get ready for work."

"Work!" Maggie's eyes got big. "What time is it?"

"Only six," Joe said, perplexed by Maggie's behavior.

"I have an early class today," Maggie wailed as she sprinted out the door, her hair still tangled and her face clear of makeup. "Bye, Joe!"

"Wait" Joe yelled, running after her. He caught up with her in the hall. "Maggie!" he said breathlessly, grabbing her arm. "How about I pick you up after work – like the old days?" Joe said with a boyish grin.

"Sure," Maggie said, falling into her reverie for a second, "But now I've got to run – literally!" She laughed and waved goodbye as she ran down the stairs.

* * *

Maggie entered the classroom, her hair mussed, but carrying a notebook as she sat down for her Language and Culture class. Her professor harrumphed at Maggie, calling her attention to the fact that she was twenty minutes late. She mouthed, "Sorry," and sat down in her seat.

"I hope you all read your chapter last night," the professor began, and Maggie clapped her hand to her forehead. The assignment – how could she have forgotten? The professor noticed this act, and said, "Mrs. Shaw. Perhaps you will enlighten us as to the content of the chapter?"

She squeezed her eyes closed and reopened them – it wasn't a dream. "I'm sorry. I forgot about the assignment."

"What a pity," the professor smirked, "You seemed to be a good student, Mrs. Shaw: intelligent, punctual, savvy – but I see that I was wrong in judging you. Miss Leigh, could you enlighten Mrs. Shaw, please?"

Miss Leigh was a pretty girl of twenty-one, near to completing her Bachelor's Degree. Her mahogany hair was tied into a severe bun, and she stared kindly at Maggie through bespectacled eyes. "The chapter talked about how people think English should never vary or change, even though the language has gone through several transformations since its original speakers invented it."

"Thank you, Miss Leigh," the professor said, nodding in her direction. "All of you open your books to page 288, please. Mrs. Shaw, would you kindly read the text for us?"

Maggie sighed. Today was going to be a long day.

* * *

Maggie breezed in to work around one o'clock – half an hour early for her. She finally gained access to a mirror – and a brush – so she could look presentable for her job. She couldn't wait to work after her exhausting and virtually humiliating day at school. She did none of her assignments, and all her professors caught on to her, leaving her drained of the hope and cheerfulness she had felt that morning. She saw the other girls, and offered a gloomy, "Hello."

She entered the kitchen and saw her best friend at that job, Scotty. She had curly blond hair which she always had tied in a ponytail and vast blue eyes that stared piteously at her friend. "Maggie! What happened?"

"Oh, I just had the most horrible day of my life!" Maggie whined, setting her bag in a corner. "I didn't do any of my homework, and I think my professors have radar that picks up on slackers."

"Maggie, you always do your homework!" Scotty admonished. "What-." Her lips curled into a sly smile. "A boy?" she offered timidly. Maggie blushed and looked away. "A boy!" she cried, swatting Maggie on the arm. "About time, too! When do we meet him?"

Maggie hesitated, then said, "He's picking me up after work today."

"He'd better be damn handsome to make you forget your homework," Scotty said sternly, but Maggie didn't take her seriously – her eyes were still vibrant with excitement.

* * *

Maggie's work day passed by quickly, for even though she was working hard, her mind was filled with Joe. It was five minutes to seven, and she knew Joe would walk through the door any moment.

"Miss?" a man said, startling her out of her daydream.

She turned and looked at him. He was grubby – not physically soiled, but an aura that filled her with an unexplainable fear. "Yes?" she said, her voice shaking.

"I wanna large pepperoni pizza, and make it fast, sweetie," he said, slapping her behind.

Scowling, Maggie went to the kitchen. "Scotty, I have an order for a large pep on the run!"

"Okay, hon!" Scotty yelled. Maggie looked back. The guy was the only customer, so she didn't have any other duties. She tried to lower her skirt, but that only placed more skin in her midsection visible. She couldn't pull up her shirt for the same reason. Scotty breathlessly handed her the pizza. "Here you go, hon." She scanned the room. "God, it's desolate, isn't it?"

"Yes," Maggie said, her body trembling again, "And there's only that – that man."

"Another one of those, huh?" Scotty asked, worried.

"Yeah," Maggie said, forcing herself to walk back to the horrible man. "Here's your pizza, sir," she said, practically throwing the pizza down on the table, "That's fourteen dollars even."

"Hey, now, pretty bird," he crooned, trying to touch her arm. She backed away from him, and he angered. "What do you mean by that?" he demanded. Standing, he said, "First you stiff me for an unreasonable amount of money, then when I try to be gentle –." He tried to touch her face, but she turned away – "you turn away. I know you don't mean to, doll." His lips stretched tight over yellow teeth as he smiled perversely. He reached out and grabbed her roughly by both arms and pulled her close.

"Maggie!" Maggie breathed a sigh of relief as Joe hurried to her side. He quickly separated the two and pushed the guy to the wall. "Just what were you doing to Maggie?"

Before Joe could react to it, the guy's fist connected with Joe's jaw. Joe stepped backwards a couple steps, but in turn punched the guy in the stomach, then on his nose. Maggie's terrified screams for help and the waitress' talking surrounded the fight, but neither heard them. The guy slid down to the floor, clutching his stomach. He looked up at Joe with defiant eyes. "You win – this time."

"Maggie, call the police," Joe yelled, not taking his eyes off the culprit. Maggie rushed to the phone and dialed the sheriff. "You think that women are just playthings?" Joe hissed just loud enough for the man to hear. "You think that just because they're women that they'll succumb to anything? Well, I happen to know for a fact that Maggie's not like that, so you leave her alone, or you'll have to deal with me."

The sound of sirens awoke Joe to the reality: the police were out there. The sheriff and three of his men came in. "What happened here?" the sheriff demanded.

"This guy was being rude to Maggie, sir," Joe said, still not trusting the guy enough to stop keeping watch over him.

"Is that true, Maggie?" the sheriff asked.

"Yes, sheriff," Maggie said, very close to tears, "I don't know what would have happened if Joe hadn't come."

The sheriff nodded. "Book him, boys. Joe, I'm gonna have to ask you to come in for questioning. You, too, Maggie."

The pair nodded, and walked outside. Maggie held on to Joe tightly – he was the one man in her life she could count on.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine – I'm Still Here

Joe phoned that he was working late that night, so Maggie didn't even bother to knock on his door. She entered her apartment, which was newly painted blue, her favorite color. She threw her keys onto the table by the door, and started shedding her clothes. She found a nightie, and decided that if Joe were to stop by late, she would tempt him to stay.

Ever since the night she stayed at Joe's, she'd been trying to make it a tradition, but to no avail; Joe insisted that it was a loss of willpower on his part, and he'd be damned to let it happen again before they were married.

Sighing, Maggie moved over to the mirror and started to brush her hair, which had been steadily growing longer these past months. She made a mental note to cut it the way she used to have it when she and Joe were first engaged – maybe she'd even let it revert to its natural color.

Maggie turned down her bed and searched for a book and found one: _The Ebony Tower_. She had bought it the day before, and it had seemed interesting. She curled up in bed with it, and fell asleep halfway through the first story.

_She was sitting in an eighteenth century living room with all the then-modern comforts and luxuries. Her dress was light blue, ruffled at the top with white lace and a dark blue bow. The collar was all the way up to the edge of her neck, and cut into her slightly. She had puffy blue sleeves, and the gown was form-fitting, but not too much. Her hair was pulled back to the nape of her neck in a slight ponytail, and her long brown hair reached the middle of her back._

_She glanced over at another woman there, one with long blond hair that reached her waist. Maggie couldn't see the woman's face; she faced the wall. The neck line of her dress was much lower than Maggie's – it reached what would have been the upper edge of her bra, if bras were worn in the eighteenth century. The blond woman's dress was orange, and her sleeves were not puffy. They reached mid-lower arm, and had long, drooping edges made of lace. In the middle of her mid-section, there was a giant orange bow that tied in back, separating the top of the dress from the rest. The lower part of the dress wasn't as form-fitting as Maggie's, but it was still lovely._

"_Diana, please don't move, darling," said a familiar voice. Maggie turned her head forward and gasped as she saw Tom Jennings, handsome as ever in eighteenth century garb. "That's better. You mustn't fidget, darling. You'll ruin the picture."_

_Tom was busily painting a portrait of the two women. He creased his brow, looked up from the canvas, and resumed painting again. He heard a knock on the studio door. "Enter, please," he said distractedly._

_Joe, in costume of the era, came in. "Henry, I must speak with you."_

"_Find another suitable time, please," Tom said, barely looking up from the painting._

"_I cannot," Joe insisted, "I say, I must speak with you about Diana."_

_Maggie sat more erect in her chair. "What about her?" Tom asked._

"_I do not know if you are treating her right," Joe said._

_Tom stood, looked at Joe then at Maggie, and asked Maggie, "Diana, darling, do you feel unsatisfied living here in this house with me? Are you uncomfortable – abused?"_

_Maggie started – Diana was her. "I feel fine, Joe," she said reassuringly._

_Tom and Joe looked at each other questioningly. "Joe?" Tom asked. "Who is Joe?"_

"_Him," Maggie scoffed, pointing clearly at Joe._

_Joe stepped forward, apprehensive. "My name is David."_

"_No!" Maggie cried, "It's Joe! You're Joe!" The woman with the long blond hair turned around – Carolyn! "Carolyn!" Maggie cried, "I'm not going crazy. He's Joe, right? Say I am right!"_

_Carolyn's face grew thoughtful. "Who is Carolyn? My name is Anne."_

_Maggie screamed till her face turned blue and she passed out from loss of air. In the darkness, she felt a searing pain, which woke her up._

Maggie shrieked haltingly and sat up. She looked around her – she was still in her nightie, but no longer in her room. She was laying down in a house she had never seen before – the house in her dream. "Hello?" Maggie asked timidly. She walked over to the door and opened it. There was no one there. "Hello?" Maggie said a little louder. Still, no one answered.

She walked down the hall to a staircase which led directly to the door. She reached the front door before becoming ashamed that she might have to walk through town in her skimpy nightie. Oh well, she thought, it's not like people are wearing suits and ties – I might fit right in.

Maggie glanced over her shoulder before leaving the house – and then she paused, for she recognized the painting. It was of two girls, one who looked amazingly like Carolyn and one like her – both in the dresses she saw in her dream. She walked closer to it, and saw the title of the portrait: "Diana and Anne – They Will Never Be His".


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten – Ill Again

Maggie slammed her door behind her, trying to drown out all the whistles and jeering she had received while walking back from the mansion. Suddenly, it was as if all her energy had been drained from her, and walking back to town seemed like a hundred miles, but she had made it. She looked at the bed – it seemed tempting – but she was afraid to go to sleep again, afraid of the dreams that seemed to turn into crushing reality within minutes.

Thank God it's Saturday, she thought as she pulled the covers around her. Her eyes were almost closed when she heard a knock at her door. Reluctantly, she rolled out of bed and opened her door. Joe forced himself in, almost frantic. "Why did you do it, Maggie?"

"Why did I do what?" Maggie asked tiredly. Her head was pounding – she needed her sleep.

"I saw you from my window." Joe's face was turning red. He was obviously jealous, but saying that he saw Maggie nearly naked on the street made him blush more than seeing her. "Where were you last night?"

"I don't know," Maggie said truthfully.

"You've got to know!" Joe grabbed her roughly by her arms and started shaking her. "You were with another man, weren't you?! Was it Sebastian? Was it?!"

"Joe!" Maggie exclaimed. She was hurt by his accusations, but she admittedly did not know how she came to be in that house. Joe released her arms and got a hold on himself. "Are you ready to listen?" Maggie said impatiently. Joe nodded. "I went to sleep here. I woke up in another house outside of town. I don't know how I got there or who took me or anything. I had to walk back – no cars or buses were in the vicinity."

Joe nodded, and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry Maggie, I – I didn't know what to think."

"So you didn't," Maggie said angrily. Joe shot her a disbelieving look. Maggie brought her gaze down to the floor and said in a soft, childlike voice, "Do you remember what Tom wrote on the mirror before you left the hospital?"

"'She will never be yours'," Joe whispered.

"In the house I woke up in, there was a painting with two girls in it. One of them looked exactly like me, and the title of the painting was 'They Will Never Be His'. Do you think it means anything?" Maggie asked.

Joe shook his head. "Not unless you saw Tom there."

Maggie bit her lip. "Joe," she said, her voice wavering, "I did see him."

"In the house?" Joe asked, panicked.

Maggie shook her head. "In my dream."

"Oh, Maggie," Joe said, pulling her close to him. She breathed deep, inhaling Joe's deep, manly, fisherman scent. Listening to his heartbeat calmed her down, and made everything seem all right again. "Maggie, you're lucky you're safe. What if he got to you?"

"He didn't," Maggie said in a reassuring voice.

"You don't know that," Joe said, "You were unconscious, remember?"

Maggie started to worry again. "Please, Joe. Just hold me."

The two stood there for minutes on end, just holding each other, reassuring each other that they are always there for one another. Maggie's eyes started to close – she was so tired. Joe felt Maggie's dead weight and said jokingly, "Wake up, sweetheart." Maggie completely collapsed. Joe caught her, and yelled, "Maggie!"

He picked her up and put her in bed before he ran into the living room to call a doctor. What Joe nor Maggie had noticed was a huge, gouging wound in the back of her leg, gray from all the blood that she had lost.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven – Confusion

Maggie's eyes fluttered open and focused in on Joe. She made a motion to speak, but Joe said, "Don't speak, sweetheart; save your strength."

Maggie lay back further on her pillow. In the distance, she could see a doctor, who realized that Maggie was finally awake. "Well, Mrs. Shaw, you gave us quite a scare."

"What's wrong with me, doctor?" Maggie asked timidly.

The doctor smiled kindly. "Oh, I don't think there's anything to be concerned about. You're just a bit weak, that's all. Run down. If you stay in bed a couple of days, you should be all right again."

Joe still looked worried, but he nodded and said, "I live just down the hall. I can come in everyday and take care of her."

"Excellent," the doctor said. He packed all his gear in his bag, and motioned for Joe to come to him. Once they were out of Maggie's earshot, he said, "Joe, I didn't want to upset her, but I do think she might be suffering from a blood disease."

Joe paled. "Which one?"

The doctor sighed – this was the hardest part of his job. "I think she may have a derivative of anemia."

Joe swallowed hard. "Are you sure?"

"No. To be sure, I'd have to run a series of tests at a hospital." The doctor looked at Joe – he knew that he would take the news bad. "Look, she might not have it. Just let her rest a couple of days – she might get over it."

"Couldn't it be something else?" Joe asked.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, it could be something as simple as a wound that bled excessively."

"I don't remember seeing any wound," Joe said quietly, more to himself than to the doctor. As soon as he realized what he had said, he corrected himself, saying, "I mean, I must remember to ask her."

The doctor nodded. "You and Mrs. Shaw won't get a bill until I'm sure she's out of danger."

The doctor turned to leave, but Joe grabbed him by the sleeve. "Danger?" he said in an anxious voice. "Maggie's – in danger?"

The man nodded. "Yes. Her heart is working overtime – that's why she's so weak. She needs her rest so that she can recover."

"Okay," Joe said solemnly.

The doctor left, and Joe returned to Maggie's side. He sat on the edge of her bed, and asked, "How are you doing, sweetheart?"

"Better," she said. Joe absently started running his finger down her arm, giving her chills. She pulled the blanket up to her neck, saying, "Why is it so cold in here?"

"I'll go turn the heater up," Joe said, getting up. From the living room, he hollered, "Maggie, where's your thermostat?"

Maggie thought for a moment. "In the bathroom, hon."

Joe went into the bathroom, and saw the most revolting sight he had ever seen: blood everywhere, dripping from the sink, pooled in the bathtub. It was even brushed on some of the walls. He ran to Maggie immediately, saying, "Maggie, where is it?"

"Where's what?" she asked innocently.

"The wound, Maggie!" Joe said, overwhelmingly concerned. He even started to hyperventilate. "Where is it? Where did he hurt you?"

"Who's he?" she asked, very confused.

"Tom!" Joe yelled in desperation.

He threw off the covers that she held so tightly to her, and started checking her arms. "Joe, want the hell are you doing?!" Maggie screamed, pulling her arms away from him.

"Looking for it," he said, looking over her calves. He reached under her legs, and felt something unusual. Joe looked sternly at Maggie, and said in a quiet, deadly voice, "Roll over."

"What?" Maggie asked, terribly perplexed and concerned again for Joe's mental well-being.

"I said roll over!" he yelled, trying to shake a horrible feeling that he had – that he might lose her again. Cowed, Maggie rolled on her stomach, and Joe was face-to-face with it: the wound. Quietly, he said, "I found it."

Maggie, too shocked for words, righted herself, and pulled her leg to her. She, too, saw the ugly, disfiguring wound. She looked at Joe, helpless. "Joe, what are we going to do?"

"Just sit tight, Maggie," Joe said, standing up, "I'll call the doctor again – and the police."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve – Helpless

"So your name is Mrs. Shaw?" the sheriff asked, writing down all the facts in his little black notepad. Maggie nodded. The sheriff turned and looked at Joe. "May I assume, then, that you're Mr. Shaw?"

"No," Joe said, a little miffed about the way the sheriff was handling the case.

"I'm divorced," Maggie explained.

The sheriff raised his eyebrows. "I see." While writing, he asked, "Are you sure you didn't see the culprit while he maimed you, Mrs. Shaw?"

"I told you, I was asleep when he came, and unconscious the entire time after," Maggie said irritably.

"Are you sure?" the sheriff pressed. "No repressed memories? I seem to remember you had a problem with that once."

Joe intervened. "Listen, sheriff, she might have been drugged, or the perp could have had chloroform."

The sheriff smirked, and faced Maggie again. "All right, you two, so far we have no description, no motive, but a lot of damage. Do you two have a suspect in mind?"

Joe and Maggie shared a look – they couldn't tell him it was almost certainly Tom, since he'd been dead for six years; instead, Maggie said, "I have absolutely no idea. Do you, Joe?"

Joe shook his head convincingly. "No. Sorry, sheriff."

The sheriff sighed and put his notepad back in his pocket. "I'm not gonna lie – this is probably an unsolvable case."

"Like my disappearance?" Maggie asked with terse lips.

"We arrested a man," the sheriff pointed out, "Willie Loomis. Do you think – nah, he left town years ago. Got married – poor lady."

Maggie's brow furrowed. "Why poor lady?"'

"Considering the kind of man she got hitched up with," the sheriff said, hitching up his trousers. He coughed, and said, "Well, the men and I have to be going. Other cases to solve, you know."

The sheriff waddled out of Maggie's bedroom, and she sunk again into her pillow. "Other cases, my foot. It's almost lunchtime."

"Now, Maggie," Joe said, sitting down beside her and patting her hand, "He'll do his best. He cares about you."

"No, he cares about his reputation," Maggie said stubbornly, "And his best won't solve the case, I know it."

The doctor, who had been silent all this time, came forward. "Joe, I'm glad you called. Something as simple as a wound can be treated immediately. Now, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room while I treat her cut."

Joe looked at Maggie, then at the doctor. Nodding, he said, "I'll be outside the door."

* * *

Over the next month, Maggie got her strength back, and started back at work again. She would have to wait until fall term to re-enroll in her classes, since they were all filed as "incomplete". Carolyn, who Maggie saw constantly at the restaurant, asked her and Joe to come up sometime and join in on all the chaos.

Joe and Maggie decided to take her up on her offer one night, and they found themselves driving up to the great estate. As they parked in the driveway, Joe said, "I don't know if you should be doing this. You're still kind of pale."

"I'll be fine," Maggie said assuredly. They looked at each other for several moments. He contemplated how Maggie's naturally reddish-brown hair (she let it revert back to red) glinted in the moonlight, while Maggie saw herself in Joe's blue eyes – the eyes she wanted for her children. She took his face in her hands and kissed him. There they sat for many minutes before Maggie broke away to find he still had that soft, sweet look in his face – a boyish charm that she succumbed to time and again. "Carolyn is waiting," she said finally.

Joe sat in his stupor for a few minutes longer, then said, "Yeah. We should go."

They reluctantly left the car, and went up to Collinwood to socialize with their mutual friend.

* * *

Maggie and Carolyn were out walking in the garden. For the millionth time since they left the house, Carolyn said, "I wonder what they're talking about."

Maggie rolled her eyes. Joe and Sebastian were talking about boats and stars when they left – why should they be talking about anything different now? "I'm sure I don't know."

Carolyn picked a red rose, and brought it to her nose. "I've always loved roses. Joe used to bring me yellow ones . . ." Her voice trailed off at the look on Maggie's face. "I never loved him, though," Carolyn said, placing a supporting hand on Maggie's shoulder, "I know that now. I just – cared for him, you know? Like a friend I could count on."

Maggie nodded. "I'm glad you figured it out."

"I didn't," Carolyn said, "Joe figured it out for me. I would have kept lying to myself if he hadn't found a more desirable woman."

"Me," Maggie sighed.

"Yes, you." Carolyn ascended the three stairs to the stone bench that lay in the middle of the garden. Sitting down, she said, "How evolved is your relationship?"

"Oh, we're just as close as before," Maggie said, sitting beside Carolyn, "Maybe even closer."

"Maggie Evans – I mean Shaw – you are really turning into a twentieth century woman!" Carolyn exclaimed, slapping Maggie's knee. "You and Joe used to be a real square couple, but look at you now! Living in the same apartment building, and, for all I know, the same bed?"

Carolyn looked up at Maggie with questioning eyes, but Maggie turned her gaze downward. That night she and Joe spent together was like a cherished memory, and she couldn't bear sharing it with anyone else. "Carolyn, you know I can't answer that," Maggie said slowly.

Carolyn giggled with delight. "Maggie Shaw, that always means yes!" She clapped her hands together in delight, and Maggie didn't know how to disillusion her without lying. "Don't worry, Maggie, I won't tell Sebastian."

"Nor anyone else," Maggie said sternly.

"All right," Carolyn said, smiling big. The two men came lumbering down the pathway to where the girls sat. Carolyn stood up immediately and rushed to her boyfriend. "Come on, Sebastian, let's go back home."

"But we just got here," Sebastian protested.

"We don't have to go straight home," Carolyn said with a knowing look in her eye. "Besides," she whispered, "I think they want to be alone."

"Oh," he said, "See you later, Joe!"

"Yeah!" Joe sat down beside Maggie, and held her hand between his own. He looked into her sincere brown eyes, and said, "I love you, Maggie."

"I know," she said.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen – Rerun Sin

"Maggie, come on. It'll be dark soon!" Joe exclaimed from the living room of Maggie's apartment.

Maggie was busy dressing into something suitable for a night drive with her boyfriend. She finally decided on a pretty, modest white dress that had a white bow wrapped around her waist to accentuate her figure. She half-tied her reddish-brown hair up, reapplied makeup, and exited the bedroom. "Well?" Maggie smiled. "How do I look?"

Joe stared at her impeccable beauty. Even dressed in the most conservative clothes, she looked like a model. He swallowed hard, and said, "You look great, Maggie. We should really start."

Maggie thought a moment, then said, "Wait, Joe. I forgot something."

Joe - half-smiling, half-exasperated – scoffed and put his hands on his hips as Maggie re-entered the bedroom to retrieve a filmy white scarf. "What's that for?" he asked grumpily.

"My hair, silly," Maggie giggled as she tied the scarf over her hair to prevent any damage to her hair-do. Turning around, she said, "_Now_ we can go." She grabbed her coat and headed out the door. Mystified, Joe ran after her.

* * *

Joe opened the door of his red Chevy Camaro, and said, "Hop in, Maggie." Maggie giggled and complied while Joe got into the car on the driver's side.

Maggie buckled up, and said, "Ready, Joe."

"Okay," he said, and took off down the road. Maggie rolled down the window and let the breeze enter her scarf. Joe glanced at Maggie, then said jokingly, "I thought you wanted to protect your hair from the wind."

Maggie looked at Joe guiltily. "Sorry. The night air just seems so warm, that's all."

"Yeah. Indian summer," Joe said in a mock-serious tone. He smiled to himself – women and all their precious vanity. And for what? So they can end up contradicting themselves on a night like this. And he knew where to take Maggie; it was such a beautiful night. He remembered a spot he thought was just gorgeous. He found it when he and Carolyn were dating, but he never took her to it, and now he knew why: she wasn't the one. Maggie was and always will be the one – the one for him.

Joe turned onto a tiny dirt path hardly big enough for one car. Maggie's face registered surprise and worry as she said, "Joe, where are we going?"

"You'll see, Maggie," Joe grinned.

Maggie settled back in her seat, nervous about where she was going and why. Joe had never taken her on this road before, and she wasn't sure how she'd react when they had gotten to his intended destination. Joe again took a left turn, but not onto a path; instead, it was a giant lot that had been cleared. Up ahead was a deep forest unlike the Collinses estate, where the night breeze was sweet and the scene idyllic. Maggie looked up at the sky only to find how clear and beautiful the night was. She could see all the stars – there wasn't a cloud in the sky. "Oh, Joe," she said, her voice low.

"Maggie, there's a reason why I brought you here," Joe said nervously.

Maggie placed a solitary finger over his mouth. Her bottom lip shook with emotion – she wondered how she could stand up to him, but she found inner courage. "Listen, Joe, I think I know what you're going to ask me."

Joe stared at her as Maggie's finger dropped from his mouth. "Then what's your answer?" he asked quietly.

Maggie looked away from him – how could she bear it? "I don't need to tell you that I've been married before," she said slowly, "It wasn't an easy marriage, and it didn't last very long, but I've learned something from it. I learned to take my time, and I don't think we've been dating long enough."

"But, Maggie, count all the years we spent together before my breakdown and Sebastian!" Joe exclaimed, shocked and hurt by Maggie's reaction.

Maggie sighed and faced Joe again. "We were two different people back then. We have to be reacquainted." She noticed how upset Joe was, and decided to add something. "If it makes you feel better, in a few months I'll probably say yes."

"Probably," Joe huffed.

"Yes, Joe, probably," Maggie said loudly. He wasn't taking it well at all. "Listen, Joe, I love you. I will marry you – someday. I just don't think I'm ready to be engaged again."

"But, Maggie," Joe said, taking her hand, "We've already become closer to each other – spiritually as well as physically – than we've ever been before. Surely, you can consider that when you turn me down."

"But, Joe, I'm not turning you down!" Maggie exclaimed. "I'm simply saying not now! When did I ever say not ever?" Maggie took his face in her hands, and said, "I love you, Joe Haskell, but not enough to make a rash decision."

She kissed him. Joe re-surfaced and said, "What's so rash about it? We've known each other for years?"

Maggie kissed him again, and said, "Only pre-sanitarium Joe and pre-marriage Maggie have known each other for years. Face it, Joe: we've changed."

Solemnly, Joe nodded and kissed Maggie, only this time it was a slow, passionate kiss that demanded something of her – and she knew what. After a few minutes, she broke away from him and climbed into the back seat of his Camaro, with him not far behind.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen – Moving Day

Maggie set down her last box. "Think of it this way," she said calmly to Joe, who was having second thoughts, "It's like marriage without all the paperwork."

Joe sighed and started moving some of Maggie's boxes into the bedroom. Last night, while they were lying together in the car, the idea seemed so perfect. Now that it's a reality, Joe wondered what he had gotten himself into. He couldn't deny that the idea of living with Maggie appealed to him; however, the idea of living together without a marriage license seemed so modern, so . . . so . . . _hippy_. He couldn't tell Maggie to move out, either – she'd already given her key back to the landlady, and they had signed a new leasing contract together. Maggie's clear, happy voice carried from their living room and interrupted Joe's thoughts. "I carried in the last of 'em!"

"All right," Joe said in a voice that wasn't his own.

He walked out, and picked up a couple more boxes. "If you want, I can help you," Maggie said.

"No, Maggie, I got it," he said, struggling slightly with her boxes as he headed to the bedroom, "Just grab a glass of water. I'll join you as soon as I'm done."

Maggie shrugged and headed into the direction of the kitchen. She heard Joe grunt as he let the boxes fall onto the floor. As she poured the water, she again asked, "Are you sure you don't need any help?"

"No, Maggie, thank you," Joe said as he emerged again for the last of the boxes. Maggie giggled slightly at his pride. Men, she thought, why can't they just give in and let women work beside them? Joe staggered slightly as he headed toward Maggie, and grabbed the glass of water she had just poured. "Thanks, Maggie," he wheezed before downing the entire glass.

Maggie raised an eyebrow and poured him more before taking out another glass. "Don't worry about unpacking them; I'll do it in a little while." Joe nodded and took another giant gulp of cold water. As she removed ice cubes from the freezer, she said, "You're not okay with this, are you?"

"Sure I am," Joe said stiffly.

Maggie slammed the tray down. "No, you're not! I don't understand, Joe. If you didn't want me living with you, why did you agree?"

Joe put down his glass of water and centered his line of sight on Maggie. "I want you to live with me, Maggie; that's all I want. All I'll ever want."

"You don't seem overly pleased that I moved in here," she said stubbornly.

"Maggie," he sighed, "I love you and always want to be with you, but I just don't agree with the idea of living together before we're married."

"That's not what you said last night."

Maggie took a big swig of water, and stared at Joe, as if waiting for an explanation. Joe put his hands on her shoulders, and said, "Last night, I agreed because I was in an – emotional state."

"Mm-hmm," Maggie said, her tips so tense they were white.

"Please, Maggie," Joe pleaded, "Now that you're here, and you've moved in, we can both accept living together."

"I've already accepted it, Joe," Maggie pointed out, "You'll have to figure out if living with me without a ring on your finger is too much for you to handle."

Joe sighed, picked up his glass of water, and moved to the couch. Maggie shrugged and stayed at the counter, sipping her water. Joe turned to look at her, and said exasperatedly, "Maggie, come here."

"Why?" she asked, obviously still angry.

"Because I want you to," he said softly.

"Like you wanted me to move in here?" she asked. "I don't know, if I sit beside you, you might have second thoughts."

Joe scoffed. "Maggie, is this how we're going to start our life together? By arguing? Fine, don't come over here, but I thought you moved into my apartment to be closer to me."

Maggie's expression softened. She moved over to the couch, and sat beside him. He put his arm over her shoulders as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Sighing with contentment, she said, "I'm sorry, Joe. I just feel so abandoned."

"Since when?" Joe asked.

"Since Pop died, and you left. I was getting better until Sebastian entered my life and ruined it." Maggie snuggled closer to Joe. "But now I've got you again. Please, Joe – don't ever leave me."

"I won't, Maggie," he said sincerely. His other arm came around and wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "I'll never make the same mistake twice."

Maggie's lower lip trembled. "You mean with that girl?" Her question preceded a heavy silence; however, Maggie decided to pursue her topic. "You never told me who she was."

"Don't ask me, Maggie," Joe said solemnly.

Maggie smiled. "I don't really care, Joe. She doesn't have you; I do." Maggie broke out of the loving hug and kissed her boyfriend. Her smile turned into a smirk as she started kissing Joe more passionately, pushing him back against the couch.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen – Stolen

The delicious smell of cookies cooking emanated from the Haskell-Shaw kitchen. Maggie was sitting on the sofa, drinking her coffee, while the cookies cooked. She was dressed warmly, with an apron still tied about her waist. Her hair was pinned up, and her make-up not yet applied. She sat, waiting for Joe to return. Finishing her cup, she quickly poured another, and walked over to the window that was frosty from the cold outside. 1974 was coming to a close, and Maggie smiled at the thought of spending Christmas with her beloved Joe.

The timer inside the kitchen beeped, bringing Maggie to Earth as she set her cup down, and rushed to salvage the cookies from the oven. Bringing the cookie sheet out, she marveled at how wonderfully they had turned out. There were cookies shaped like Christmas trees, Santa Claus, reindeer, and presents, and each glittered and smelled wonderful. She placed the cookies on a rack to cool, and soaked the sheet. She had been up since eight in the morning – baking – and she had already produced a dozen other sheets just like it.

The door flew open, and Joe emerged, dressed from head to toe in winter apparel. He rubbed his gloved hands, blew into them, then said, "Maggie, can you help me with this?"

"Sure, Joe," Maggie said. She walked out into the hall, and saw the enormous Christmas tree Joe had gotten. "Oh, Joe, it's beautiful!"

"Picked it out myself," Joe said proudly, holding up his end, "Grab on, Maggie." Maggie picked up the trunk of the Christmas tree. "Push me in, Maggie," Joe grunted.

With all the force she had, she pushed the tree to Joe, who carried it into the apartment. Once the entirety of the tree was inside the living room, both parties let it drop, and lay on top of it. "I don't know if I can help you put it up," Maggie said breathlessly.

"It's all right, Maggie," Joe said, gasping for air, "I can do it." He stood up again, and grabbed hold of the tree. Maggie reluctantly rolled off her side, and closed the door. Joe struggled with the tree, and put it into the stand that he and Maggie had placed earlier that morning. With a final wobble, the tree stood up straight in its holder. Maggie applauded vigorously, and Joe took a bow, smiling hugely at his accomplishment. As he straightened, he said, "Do I smell cookies?"

"One hundred and forty-four of them," Maggie said, very chipper, "Sit down and I'll bring you a plateful with some milk."

Joe grinned eagerly, and complied with Maggie's order. She brought the plateful of cookies, and she made sure Joe had a couple from each design. Joe quickly started eating them, and said with a mouthful of Santa, "You still make the best cookies in Collinsport."

"Why, thank you, Joe," Maggie smirked, "When do you want to trim the tree? I bought all the ornaments."

"Whenever you want," Joe grinned. The telephone's sharp trill interrupted their conversation. "Hold that thought," Joe said as he got up and answered the phone. "Hello?" he said. "Oh, hi Mr. Collins. . . yeah, Maggie and I are just spending the day together, trimming the tree . . . what?, But I thought you said . . . I know, sir, but . . . yeah, I understand . . . I'll be there right away." Joe hangs up the phone furiously and turns to Maggie. "Sorry, Maggie. Roger Collins is calling all the best fishermen on the fleet. Seems there's a shortage of fish in the cannery, and the workers are being punished."

"You mean you have to work today?" Maggie said disappointedly.

"Actually, Roger said that there's a good chance the fisherman won't get back until tomorrow," Joe said, "The planes that figure out where the schools of fish are found one pretty far out there. It'll take a long time to reach there, get the fish, and then return back."

Maggie frowned for a second, then tried to make the situation more cheerful. She walked over to him, put her arms around his neck, and said, "Well, I guess that's what I get for being involved with a fisherman." She kissed him quickly on the mouth, and said, "Be careful."

"I will," Joe said, looking into her deep brown eyes. He kissed her more passionately, put on his coat and scarf, and opened the door. "I'll see you later, Maggie."

"Bye, Joe," Maggie said sadly. As he left the apartment, Maggie thought she felt eyes on her back. She whipped around, but no one was there. To no one but herself, she whispered, "Joe, please come back soon. I need you."

* * *

The evening found Maggie curled up in a ball on the couch, watching TV. All the lights in their apartment were on so Maggie could feel safe without her big, strong boyfriend to protect her. It had been three months since she lived alone, and suddenly she felt vulnerable.

As her TV show ended, she turned off the TV and sat up straight. It was only six o'clock, but she found herself wanting to escape in sleep, so she could awaken tomorrow faster. Maggie dressed in her nightgown quickly, and found a boring book that she could read and fall asleep quickly to. Maggie got under the covers and read the first page.

Suddenly, she heard a strange noise coming from the kitchen. She raised her eyes from her book and looked tentatively at her bedroom door, which was shut. Slowly, without making a sound, she rose from her bed, wrapped a robe around her, and opened the door slightly. Peeking through the crack, she couldn't really see anyone. She looked around her room, and found Joe's hunting rifle. Slowly, she opened the bedroom door, and walked into the living room area: no one. She looked at the kitchen, but there was no one there, either.

The counters, she thought, someone could be hiding behind the counters. She tip-toed over to look behind the counters, but there was no one there, either. She loosened her grip on the gun.

From behind her, a hand grabbed her arm while the unknown person's other hand covered her mouth. Struggling to free herself, Maggie jabbed the rifle's handle into the person's gut. The man moaned in pain, and eventually grabbed the rifle from her and threw it across the room. Maggie heard its clatter, and tears began to wet the man's hand. Maggie felt the person bite her neck, and blood drain out of her. She began to feel weaker and weaker until she ceased struggling and collapsed in his arms.

* * *

Maggie awoke and reached up and touched her neck. She could feel the wound, but there was no blood; whoever it was sucked the wound dry.

She looked down at her clothes. They were not the ones she was kidnapped in; she was dressed in a billowing black silk dress. Touching her hair, she found it was braided, and she wore a shoulder-length veil. Looking around the room, she could tell it was a dark, damp, cold cell. She ran to the door, which was locked. "Let me out!" she screamed. "Somebody! Please! Let me out!"

Tom's face leered at her from the section of the door that was merely bars. "Hello, Maggie," he said pleasantly.

"Tom, please," Maggie cried in tears, "Let me go. I never did anything to you."

"Ah, but your boyfriend did," Tom said, smiling evilly, "And to get at him, I will use you."

"You can't do that!" Maggie screamed. "You have to let me go! Let Joe and I live our lives – we'll never bother you!"

"But Joe living a happy life does bother me," Tom said, his face suddenly a mask of hatred, "As I've already said, Maggie – you will never be his."

Leaving Maggie begging for her freedom, Tom leaves the poor, frightened woman in her cage.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen – Just a Dream

Maggie still stood at the locked iron door to her cell when she heard a door in the distance slam. She wondered if Tom had merely left the dungeon, or the house. Shaking her head, she realized that even if Tom had left for Collinsport, there was no escape. Angrily, she threw off her veil, and unbraided her hair. She noticed the metal cot Tom expected her to sleep on. She lay on it, staring up at the ceiling for the longest time before her eyes closed, and her mind drifted.

_Joe burst through the iron door, awaking Maggie from her sleep. Sitting up in bed, she exclaimed, "Joe! How did you know?"_

"_Just come with me, Maggie," Joe said, extending his hand. "Tom will be here any minute."_

_Maggie took it, and they ran out of the room, through a series of passages before reaching a door where sunlight shone through. The couple quietly opened the door and shut it. They then ran until they were on the outskirts of town. Maggie finally stopped for air, saying, "Joe, I don't know how you found out, but I love you for rescuing me." She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Don't ever leave me. Don't ever let me go."_

_Joe laughed humbly, and said, "First thing we need to do is get you out of those clothes."_

"_Yes, I know," Maggie said. The couple walked happily, hand in hand through town, until reaching their apartment building. Joe waved her through the door first, and Maggie curtseyed and giggled, saying, "Thank you, sir."_

_They climbed the stairs of the apartment building, and entered their little room of dreams together. Maggie said, "You wait here; I'll go change out of this god-awful dress." _

_Joe nodded as Maggie entered their bedroom, and found a red pantsuit that was warm enough to wear on this day. She brushed her hair out and decided to leave it loose. She exited the bedroom, posed in the doorway, and said, "How do I look?"_

"_Like Maggie," Joe smiled, coming closer to her, "Like the girl I love." Joe embraced her, and kissed her lovingly on her mouth, chin, and even her wound on her neck. "Hey, I have an idea," Joe said suddenly, "Why don't we venture out to the Blue Whale? We haven't been there since we got here, and I'd like to see if it's changed."_

"_All right," Maggie smiled, holding his hand, "But I really don't think it's changed much. Places like that don't change."_

"_I suppose you're right, but I'd like to see it just the same," Joe said, tugging at her arm, "Let's go."_

"_Let me get my coat," Maggie said laughingly. She pulled on her old overcoat, and said, "Anytime you're ready."_

_Joe opened the apartment door, and said, "Ladies first." Maggie bowed her head, and walked out of the apartment, followed by Joe, who locked the door from the outside._

_The couple was suddenly at the Blue Whale, each having their usual drink, while watching the other couples dance to the rock 'n' roll music on the jukebox. Maggie laid a hand over Joe's, and said, "Just like old times, isn't it? Just – without Pop."_

_Maggie's eyes glazed with tears as she turned around to stare at another couple entering the place of business. Joe placed his other hand over hers, and said softly, "It still hurts you, doesn't it?"_

_Maggie sighed. "A girl never gets over losing a parent, and I've lost two," she said, her voice choked with tears, "Pop was special. We'd made a home for each other in our hearts. When he died, I felt empty. Even a boyfriend can't replace a father."Maggie smiled up at Joe. "No offense."_

"_None taken," Joe said, "I liked Sam myself. I felt we had a real connection – concern for you."_

_Maggie nuzzled Joe's neck and kissed it. Pulling away, she said, "Well, this had been fun, talking about Pop. Why don't we talk about something else? How was your fishing trip?"_

"_Maggie," Joe said solemnly. He seemed drunker than he did just a minute ago, and the table was littered with ten more glasses. "My Maggie. Gone."_

"_Joe, I'm not gone," Maggie laughed, wanting to believe this was some kind of horrible practical joke paid at her expense, "I'm right here, and I believe I asked you a question. How was the trip?"_

"_How could I have been so stupid?!" Joe exploded, pounding the table. _

"_Joe, you're scaring me," Maggie said nervously, "Maybe we should go home."_

_Suddenly, Joe starts crying, and puts his face in his free hand that isn't on a drink. "I loved her, and now she's gone!" Joe cried._

_Bob the bartender came over to Joe's table, and said quietly, "Listen, Joe, I know you're going through a rough time, but please – you're upsetting the other customers."_

"_Well, then, through me out," Joe spat angrily, "I can grieve elsewhere."_

_Bob looked at Joe with concern. "Joe, you know I'm not gonna do that. I just – I'm concerned about you. You've spent every moment of your time away from work in here, and getting drunk isn't gonna bring her back."_

"_Yes, it does," Joe said, nodding fervently, "Every night I see her in our apartment."_

"_Joe, that's not the drink, it's your guilt!" the bartender said irritably. "To tell you the truth, Roger Collins called down here tonight. He's concerned about your well-being, and wants you to stay off the alcohol. I told him I couldn't not serve to you, since you're a paying customer, but he warned me that if you go to work in the same vegetative state like every other day this week, he's gonna let you go."_

"_I don't care!" Joe cried angrily. "All I care about is Maggie! And she's gone, Bob! She's gone!" _

_Joe resumed his crying, and slumped over the table, passed out cold. Maggie put her hand on his back to shake him, but she noticed that her hand went right through him; she was transparent, like a ghost!_

Maggie woke in her cell screaming. In a matter of seconds, she calmed herself down, and told herself softly over and over, "It was only a dream, Maggie." Tears started to stream down her face. "Only a dream."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen – Torture

Starving. That was the only word running through Maggie's mind. She hadn't eaten for twenty-four hours, and she was very weak. She could almost feel her body's defenses slipping, and without them, she knew she could never survive the damp environment her cell provided. At least Barnabas had Willie, Maggie thought to herself.

She struggled with every ounce of strength in her body to stand upright. Leaning on to the iron door for support, she said in a very weak voice, "Food. I need food." She leaned her head against the bars, for she knew that no one could hear her. She felt too weak to scream. All the same, she mustered enough energy to yell, "Tom!"

The floor was made of cement. Maggie knew that fact instantly when she fell to the ground, too weak to even crawl to her cot. She lay there, breathing abnormally, until she heard the scraping sound of a door opening. She raised her eyesight to see a blurry Tom pulling her to her feet. "You really shouldn't exert yourself, Maggie," Tom said, an eerie smile on his face, "You really haven't the energy."

Tom led her to the cot, and sat her down. "I need food," Maggie whispered.

"Yes, I know," Tom grinned, "But food makes willpower stronger. See, if I give you food, you'll want to go running to Joe again."

"I thought you wanted Joe," Maggie said, trying to formulate a plan of escape, "Maybe if I get out, I can lead you to him."

"In public?" Tom said amusedly. "I don't think so. No, I want him here – with you."

"How's he supposed to get here?" Maggie asked innocently.

"Do you really think I'll tell you?" Tom laughed.

"I can't escape," Maggie pointed out, "I'm no threat to you."

"Yes, but having my plans in your head could give you incentive to leave," Tom said, "No, I think I'll keep my plans to myself." He grinned evilly at her, and took her roughly by the arm. "Come with me," he said, opening the door.

Maggie tried to resist. "I don't think I want to."

"But you don't have much choice, do you?" he asked, shoving her out of the room. He pulled her up the stairs to the first floor of the house.

* * *

When they finally reached the destination, Maggie recognized it: it was the room she woke up in when she was taken from her room in the middle of the night. "You!" she said, staring at Tom.

As if he could read her thoughts, he calmly said, "Me." Sparking a fire, he added, "You're going to do everything I'm going to ask you to do, Maggie." The firelight caught in his brown eyes, he turned to Maggie, an evil expression on his face. "How much does Joe love you?"

"He loves me enough to want to marry me," Maggie said, unsure of what Tom was after.

"Even after I've branded you?" he asked leering at her.

She shuddered, because his leering smile revealed his sharp, white fangs, glistening by the light of the fire. "You bit me, didn't you? That horrible wound on my leg! You're like Barnabas, aren't you?!"

Still smiling, Tom nodded. He grabbed a poker, and absently stoked the fire. "Does Joe know about the brand?"

Maggie nodded. "He even thought it was you."

"Ah, he did, did he?" Tom said, raising his gaze from the fire. Suddenly, he started staring at Maggie. "Well, now. The jealous boyfriend, accusing me." After a pause, he asked, "He was jealous, wasn't he?"

"Yes," Maggie said tersely.

The little strength she had was beginning to fail her. She crept back into a chair, but Tom dropped the poker, and stood her back up. "No, no, Maggie, you mustn't sit down."

"But I'm so tired!" Maggie whined.

"Of course, of course you are, my dear!" Tom said, patting her hand. "But you mustn't sleep or rest, oh, no, you will return to Joe in such a state that he will never be able to bear the sight of you again!"

"No!" Maggie cried, almost fainting from lack of food and rest.

"Yes, my dear," Tom continued, thoroughly enjoying the moment. He looked around, and saw the sofa. Pushing her to it, he said, "You will have all the rest you need, my dear – all the rest in the world!"

Laughing maniacally, he ignored her protests and tied her to the sofa. He then lifted up her skirt knee-high. Her struggles against the ropes proved fruitless. "What are you going to do?" Maggie cried. Tom said nothing; instead, he lifted the poker out of the fire. By now, it glowed red. He approached her slowly, as if to pain her even more with the suspense of it. Maggie screamed for her life as Tom first laid a single finger on her perfect flesh before searing it with the red-hot poker. The pain became too much for Maggie; the combination of hunger, tiredness, and excruciating pain caused her to faint. She struggled no more.

* * *

The next evening, she awoke to feel that her leg still burned. She lifted up the heavy gown and forced herself to look at it. Her skin was still bright red, and all around the place her flesh was seared, it was very painful to the touch. She heard familiar footsteps coming down the staircase. She hoped that Tom would give in and give her food; unfortunately, when he entered the room, he brought with him no tray. Tears threatened to break the barrier, but Maggie held them at bay. "Tom, if I don't eat soon, I'm going to die!" Maggie threatened.

"Are you?" Tom said provocatively. "I don't think so. You love Joe Haskell too much."

Maggie suddenly felt the heat all around the room. Funny, she thought, the room was cold and damp just a minute ago. She looked up at Tom, but reasoned he probably couldn't feel the heat. "What is this, more torture?" Maggie demanded.

"It's called gloating," Tom said arrogantly.

"I meant the heat," Maggie panted, "It's so warm in here! I need water!"

Tom then looked at Maggie, and there was something akin to concern in his eye. He reached up to feel her forehead, but she turned away from him. "Let me see your leg," he said.

"It's still gruesome, if that's what's worrying you," Maggie spat.

Ignoring her, he grabbed her leg, and saw for himself. "It looks infected," he muttered.

"Of course it is!" Maggie exploded. "What did you expect, keeping me down here with no food, no water, in this cold environment?"

Tom slapped her hard across the face. When Maggie looked back up at him, he punched her in the nose, then in the stomach. Still rubbing her cheek, Maggie began to cry. "I'm going for a doctor," Tom said as he left Maggie in her cell.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen – Another Door

As soon as the doctor entered the door, she recognized him; it was Doctor Urran from the hospital she used to work at. "Hello, Maggie," he said as he smiled at her curiously. He turned to Tom and said, "You didn't tell me who it was."

"I didn't think you two knew each other," Tom said, smiling insecurely.

"What seems to be the problem, Maggie," the doctor said as he unlatched his medical bag.

"I have a fever," she whispered. She didn't even have the strength to support her voice. "I'm weak, and my wound burns like it's on fire."

"Yes, let's take a look at your wound, shall we?" the doctor said as he lifted up her skirt until he saw the brand mark on her leg. He looked at her curiously, and said, "Why are you branded?"

Since Tom was still in the room, Maggie looked away from her former employer. "I don't know," Tom replied, "She came to my doorstep this way. She wouldn't tell me who did it to her – couldn't tell me. Look at how weak she is."

"Yes," the doctor said, "I shall have to take her to Bangor."

"No!" Tom shouted. The doctor looked up at him, surprised at his outrage. Tom calmed himself down and said, "I mean, can't you do anything for her here?"

"I could give her antibiotics, but-."

"Perfect," Tom said eagerly, holding out his hand.

Reluctantly, he gave him a bottle of pills. "She's to take one every five hours for three days. If it gets worse, call me again and I can take her to a hospital."

Tom nodded, and showed the doctor out. Maggie began to cry in vain – in vain, because Tom would never let her get to a safe environment. After this infection had gone, she knew that Tom would make up another excuse to hurt her again. She realized that, until she was dead – and Joe, too – he would never stop tormenting them. And the worst thing was she could never escape – the door was too heavy, and she was so weak from being literally starved to death.

She made an effort to sit up. As she sat up, however, a door appeared out of nowhere on one of the bare walls of her cell. Mustering all her strength, she limped forward and pulled on the handle.

What was revealed beyond the door was a staircase. Not thinking twice, she headed towards that stairway. Just then, Tom's footsteps could be heard coming toward her cells. She quickly shut the door behind her. As she shut the door, it disappeared; Tom came downstairs to find no one, and no means of escape.

The stairway was long and windy; Maggie could barely walk, and this was more work than climbing a mountain. Finally, she reached another door – the end of the staircase. Pulling hard on it, the door gave way, and she fell into another room. Looking around her, she saw the Christmas tree and the cheery kitchen. Somehow, someway, she had made it back to her and Joe's apartment.

The front door opened as Joe walked through it to find Maggie nearly unconscious on the floor. "Maggie!" he exclaimed, gathering her in his arms. A single tear of joy fell and wetted her forehead. "Maggie, where have you been? I've been so worried!"

"How long?" she managed to ask in a whispery voice.

"A week," Joe said, still in awe of the fact that Maggie appeared in his room, "Where have you been?"

"Tom," she said, "He kidnapped me."

"How did you get here?" Joe asked.

"I escaped," Maggie said, a thin smile appearing on her cracked lips, "I escaped, Joe. Now I can be with you forever."

"Maggie, we've got to get you to a doctor," he said, suddenly realizing how bad she looked, "Where are you hurt?"

"My leg's been burned," Maggie whispered before she escaped the pain by falling unconscious.

"Maggie," Joe said, "You've got to be all right." He checked her pulse, and found that, albeit slow, she still had one. "I'll call a doctor," he said, knowing she probably couldn't hear him.

* * *

Three days later, Joe received a call saying that Maggie could receive visitors. On his way there, he bought a bouquet of lilies and covertures chocolate (her favorite). Upon entering the hospital room, he could already tell that she was feeling much better. Her brow was no longer sweaty with fever, her cheeks no longer pale from hunger, and her strength had returned. The smile she wore on her face was one of complete happiness to see Joe again. "Hi," she said in her normal flirty voice.

"Hello, Maggie," Joe said, smiling boyishly, as he, too, was happy that she had recovered so thoroughly, "When did the doctors say you were going to be released?"

"This afternoon," she said, not concealing her joy.

"You know what today is, right?" Joe asked.

"Merry Christmas!" Maggie yelled laughingly. Joe laughed, too, and held out the lilies for her to see. "Oh, Joe, they're beautiful!" she exclaimed, holding them in her hands.

"That's not all," he said excitedly, producing the box of chocolates.

"Joe!" she cried in happiness. "Oh, Joe, you shouldn't have!"

"And why not?" Joe asked defensively. "It's Christmas after all."

Maggie's eyes shot up to his. "Did you get my gift?"

"Yes," Joe smiled, "The caramel candy was delicious."

"Didn't you leave me any?" Maggie asked, her eyes sorrowful.

"You think I can eat a whole box in a few hours?" Joe laughed.

Maggie's laughter joined his, making a melody of mirth. Hesitantly, she looked at him, and said, "Joe, we've got to move away?"

"Move away from Collinsport?" Joe asked, not entirely sure whether she was serious.

"Tom will try again," Maggie said matter-of-factly, "And this time, I don't know if I will be able to escape."

"Did you tell the police?" Joe asked.

Maggie scoffed. "Yes, but it'll be a miracle if they can do anything." Her eyes pleading, she reiterated, "Joe, we can move away – to Rhode Island."

"Why Rhode Island?" Joe asked, wondering if his beautiful girlfriend had suddenly turned crazy.

"I have a cousin up there," she explained, "Her name is Tillie Sellick; she lives in Rumford." She grabbed hold of Joe's hand in desperation. "Please, Joe – I know we can get work. There's a bay – they probably have a fleet you can join." Her brown eyes swelled with tears as she looked into his steady face. "Please. I want to leave."

Joe's other hand grabbed hold of hers that covered his. "Okay, Maggie," he said softly, "I'll do it for you."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen – He Follows Us

The day after Christmas, Maggie and Joe loaded up Maggie's Plymouth Duster, and headed out for Rhode Island. The trip was short – only because Joe was speeding, a fact that Maggie pointed out with increasing regularity throughout the one and a half mile drive.

They arrived at four at her cousin's house. Maggie unloaded a suitcase, and knocked on the door of the two-story house, complete with attic. It stood right on the street – there was no lawn – and had windows in every room (or so it seemed). It was painted ivory white, and stood on the corner of the street like a sail in the wind.

It seemed hours before Tillie answered the door, but in reality it was only minutes. She came to the door wearing a beautiful white strapless tunic over a straight, tight white skirt. Her long blond hair was loose, draping her shoulder. Her blue eyes shone as she said, "Maggie! I haven't seen you in ages." They pecked each other on the cheek before she continued. "When I got your phone call, you made it seem like you were on the run." She gave an appraising look at Joe, then smirked. "If you're on the run, you've got it pretty good."

Maggie gave an appraising look, too: at her cousin. She was her father's niece; she was also three years younger than Maggie, yet managed to have a husband and three children. However, when she gave her cousin a peck on the cheek, Maggie detected a hint of alcohol on Tillie's breath. "Are you going somewhere?" Maggie asked hesitantly. "Because we don't want to be a burden; we can stay in a hotel until you're ready to take us."

"Oh, no, we have plenty of room," Tillie insisted, "Please, come in." Maggie gave a worried glance at Joe before entering their beautiful home. "My husband is a professor at the local university," she boasted, waving her arm in a Vana White fashion, "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Yes," Maggie admitted. The house had to be several years old, and filled with aura. "Which room will we be staying in?"

"Oh, we have a space cleared in the attic," Tillie said absently, "I'll lead the way."

On the way up, she gave, if not a guided tour, then a recitation of the pamphlet, along with facts about her husband and children: her husband, Antwan, was an English professor; her oldest child, Joisse, was eleven now (she also went into detail about how Joisse was connected to the reason why Tillie married when she was only sixteen); and she also had a ten-year-old son (Blaze), an eight-year-old son (Bertrand), and a five-year-old daughter (Kerri). She also mentioned how her daughters looked the most like her, and her sons looked similar to their dad.

Finally, she reached the attic door. By this time, both Maggie and Joe had the full story of her life since age sixteen, and were ready to be out of her presence. "There!" she said with a flourish as she unlocked the door. "All the comforts of home, right in our attic."

Maggie looked skeptical, but once she entered the tiny room, she found that they had enough space, and, although it wasn't luxurious, it really wasn't worse than the apartment they had been living in. Maggie turned around and smiled at Joe. "It'll work, won't it?"

"Yes," Joe said, amazed at how an attic could look so wonderfully homey, "It'll be fine."

"I'll leave you two to unpack," Tillie said, "You'll have the house to yourselves for about an hour; the children are attending the party."

"What kind of party is it?" Maggie asked suspiciously.

"A faculty party," Tillie smirked, "The most boring kind of all."

A deep voice from downstairs called, "Tillie! Are you ready?"

"Coming!" Tillie yelled. Turning back to her guests, she explained, "Antwan doesn't like to be kept waiting; that's why we have Joisse." She whirled around and bounded downstairs, a length of beautiful blond hair trailing after her.

Maggie looked at Joe and shrugged. "Let's unpack."

* * *

They unpacked, had a simple dinner, and went straight to bed. While Joe slept perfectly well at Maggie's side, Maggie was restless, and could not sleep very well. In that old attic that night, Maggie Evans Shaw had a disturbing dream . . .

_Maggie entered the house happily, and met Joe at the door. The two had a passionate embrace, from which nothing on Earth could separate them. Just then, a little girl entered the room; somehow Maggie knew it was hers: hers and Joe's. After staring at the child, she wondered how she could have ever thought differently: the child had her brown hair, and her innocent, fawn-like eyes. The girl looked to be around three years old, and was incredibly happy, too. Maggie kneeled down and extended her arms. The child immediately ran into her arms. "Mommy!" the child exclaimed in a cute, child-like voice._

"_Iris!" Maggie cried. For a moment, she wondered how she knew the child's name, but that thought was washed away immediately: the child was hers; of course she'd know her name. "Iris, I've missed you so!"_

_They parted, and Iris said in a tearful voice, "Why do you have to go away so much?"_

"_Darling, I have to work," Maggie explained. The child merely asserted that she understood, and walked around the room, her happy mood demolished. "Honey, what's wrong?" Maggie asked concernedly._

_Iris looked at Maggie, and Maggie gasped – she knew she saw her own eyes looking back toward herself. "The kids pick on me," Iris said flatly._

"_Why?" Maggie asked, grabbing a stray, chubby hand._

"'_Cause you and Daddy aren't married," she said simply._

"_Oh," Maggie said, standing up next to her lover, "We can't change that, darling."_

"_Why not?" Iris asked, pouting._

"_Yeah, Maggie," Joe said as an idea dawned on him, "Why not?"_

_Just then, both Iris and Joe chanted "Why not? Why not?" over and over. Maggie couldn't answer them, and it frustrated her. She put her hands over her ears – she thought the sound would make her mad. She screamed to block out her family, but the chants grew louder and louder._

_Suddenly, she heard a rumble of thunder, and she looked over to the spot that had emitted the sound. In a corner of the room, she saw a shadowy figure of a man. Tom, she thought as she turned to tell her child and boyfriend to run; however, there was no one there. As quickly as their chants disappeared, they had, too. Maggie forced herself to look in the shadowy corner once more and the figure came out of the shadows. It was not Tom Jennings, as she had suspected; instead, Willie Loomis stepped forward. "Willie!" Maggie cried out in relief._

"_I didn' scare ya now, did I, Maggie?" Willie asked in a nervous voice._

"_No!" Maggie exclaimed, running toward him. As she hugged Willie, she said, "Oh, it's so good to see you, Willie; I've missed you."_

"_Yeah, I've missed ya, too," Willie said sorrowfully. He looked off in the distance, and Maggie, intrigued, looked over, too. She saw Joe and their child in the distance. "You got a nice family, Maggie," Willie said. Suddenly, she found herself looking into his beady, shifty eyes. "You happy here, Maggie?" Willie asked._

_Maggie thought, and stated, "I don't know. I think I am."_

"_You really happy with Joe?" Willie pressed._

"_I – I – I love Joe," Maggie hedged. Willie looked at her skeptically. "A lot," she added._

"_But are ya happy?" Willie asked sincerely._

"_What could make me happier than living with the people I love?" Maggie asked._

"_I don' know," Willie replied, "You gotta answer that for yaself." After Maggie had thought for a moment, he repeated, "Are ya happy, Maggie?"_

"_No!" she screamed, her eyes ablaze with passion. "I want my independence."_

"_An' what does Joe want?" Willie asked._

"_To be married," Maggie said bitterly, "I've done that before; I don't feel like being attached to a ball and chain."_

_Willie nodded and faced the wall. "Now, if ya was to be with me, Maggie, I wouldn' be askin' ya to marry me or nuthin' – all I would want is ta be with you."_

_Maggie's eyes became very thoughtful. "But Joe and I aren't married," Maggie said slowly, "He sacrificed his ideals just to be with me. Shouldn't I do the same?"_

"_That's an answer ya'll have to work out for yaself," Willie said as he walked away, "An' when ya do, I'll be waitin'."_

Maggie awoke with a start as she sat up in bed. Her face was covered with sweat. She felt something stir beside her, and she looked down at Joe: sweet, trusting Joe. She remembered how he had felt when she thought she was seeing Willie Loomis. Why had she dreamt about him now? She hadn't even thought about him in years! She shook her head – it wasn't going to be solved tonight. Instead, she lay back in bed and wrapped her arms tightly around Joe's waist. "What time is it?" he mumbled.

Maggie checked the clock next to her, and replied, "Eight o'clock in the morning."

Joe sat up and stretched. "Time to get up, huh, Maggie?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she said as she reluctantly removed the covers and stood from her bed. Her night had been very restless – she felt as if she hadn't slept at all. But if Joe knew what she had been dreaming about – no, it was better off for both of them if he never knew. Never.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty – White Wedding

Maggie stood arranging her dress in front of the full-length mirror. She always knew this day would come again, but never did she dream it would be so soon. Tillie stood behind her, arranging her veil so that it graced her dress ever so slightly. Maggie pinched herself just to see if she wasn't dreaming – the slight pain that followed indicated that she wasn't. Her reddish-brown hair was pinned up. The dress she had picked out was of a simple design, yet ruffled enough to command some kind of attention. Her main skirt was straight and sleek, yet the lacey overskirt trailed far behind her. Her heart beat faster as she realized that in another room, her husband-to-be was getting ready also.

Joe nervously tugged on his tuxedo jacket. Antwan was talking loudly to his friends, who were all shaking his hand and congratulating the groom to be. Soon, Ted, one of Antwan's colleagues at the university, waved a cigar in front of Joe's face. "Cigar?" he asked provocatively.

"No, thanks," Joe said, pushing the filthy thing out of his face.

Antwan came up to Joe, and whispered, "Listen, I know you're nervous, but think of it this way – you won't have to stay in my attic no more!"

"That's one way to look at it," Joe said cautiously. Tillie's husband had seemed all right when he met him in December, but Joe soon found out that Maggie's cousin-in-law was rowdy and quite often rude and unfeeling. At first, he questioned why Tillie drank so much – now he knew.

"Good boy!" Antwan growled, clapping poor Joe so hard on his shoulder, he thought his knees would buckle. "Ted, I think he's ready for a cigar!"

"No," Joe persisted, "Maggie wouldn't like it."

"Oh-ho," Antwan said, looking at all of his friends with a knowing eye, "You want everything perfect, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," Joe said defensively, lifting his chin proudly.

"Y'hear that, boys?" Antwan said, laughing obnoxiously. His other friends were practically rolling on the floor laughing. "Joe," he wheezed as tears flooded his face, "You're all right."

Joe harrumphed, and returned to staring at himself in the mirror. There was nothing Joe could really do now – he was ready, yet the ceremony was still fifteen minutes away. To his nervous heart, it seemed like fifteen hours.

Maggie was finally ready. She looked at Tillie. She wore a long halter dress that touched the floor. Her long blond hair was down, and she looked very pretty as Maggie's maid of honor. The bridesmaids Maggie didn't know well, but she got to pick out their dress: also a halter top dress, but knee-length and pink.

Tillie handed Maggie her nosegay full of pink-and-white tipped dahlias. "You look beautiful, Maggie," Tillie smiled, "You'll be a beautiful bride."

"Again," Maggie added as she sighed.

"Joe doesn't care about that," Tillie assured, "He seems like a really nice guy."

"He is," Maggie said. The ladies could hear the organ begin in the hall. Maggie's eyes held a look of terror as she asked, "Isn't it early?"

Tillie checked her watch, and said, "Nope. Right on time."

Maggie whimpered nervously as she righted her dress for the last time before her entrance.

* * *

Joe and Maggie became man and wife in a matter of two hours. Nothing went wrong; everything was perfect. Joe could now feel good about sharing the same bed as Maggie, while Maggie reassured herself that her recurring nightmare could never come true now. She was truly happy, and she knew it.

The happy newlyweds entered the reception hall that Tillie had arranged for them. As soon as the couple stood center on the floor, Maggie gasped and felt like she couldn't breathe. All of a sudden, the room was stifling. Why, she asked herself, why was she behaving this way? Because Willie Loomis was standing in that reception hall. Their song was about to play, but she forgot about that; instead, she marched right up to Tillie, and hissed, "Who invited Willie Loomis?"

"Who's Willie Loomis?" Tillie asked confusedly; Antwan, however, averted his eyes and pretended to be nonchalant. Tillie noticed this, and said, "Antwan, who is Willie Loomis?"

"A friend of mine," Antwan said, still trying not to make contact with Maggie's eyes.

"Oh?" Maggie asked through pursed lips. "And may I ask why you invited him here?"

"I saw nothing wrong," Antwan said defensively.

"Willie never said that he knew me?" Maggie interrogated.

"No," Antwan said.

Maggie nodded curtly and huffed back to Joe. Immediately, the band started playing "He Don't Love You (Like I Love You)", and Maggie went through the motions of dancing as she said, "Willie's here."

"I know," Joe said somberly.

"You know?" Maggie exclaimed incredulously. "How long?"

"Since you left me stranded here to talk with Tillie," Joe said matter-of-factly, "I saw him watching you." Joe glanced over toward the crowd. "He's still there." Maggie shivered slightly in Joe's arms. "If you want, I could have him kicked out," Joe offered.

Maggie shook her head slowly. "I don't want any trouble." Her doe-brown eyes slowly reached his baby blue ones, and she said in her most innocent, naïve, child-like voice, "All I want is you."

At the climax of the song, Joe leaned forward and kissed his bride. They hardly noticed the audience's applause as they got lost in each other's arms in the moment of the kiss. As they pulled apart, they knew that no one, not even Willie Loomis, could intrude on their happiness now.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One – Je Vous Aime, Le Cheri; Je Vous Aime, Tres Cher

Maggie and Joe got off the plane the next day. All around them, foreign words were cast out in conversation. Maggie held Joe's hand tightly, and whispered, "I can't believe we're in Paris!"

"Only the best for my Maggie," Joe smiled as he pressed his lips against hers. Her index finger traced his wedding ring as their kiss intensified in the airport. Joe broke apart suddenly, as if he were surprised he had let the passion reach that point. "Not here, Maggie."

Maggie smiled devilishly as she grabbed her suitcase. "How do we get a taxi?" she queried.

"Well, I would guess you would have to call one in," Joe said mockingly. She punched him on his shoulder, and he exclaimed, "Ow! That hurt!"

"Good," Maggie sniffed. As their eyes met again, they both broke out into laughter. "How long do we have here in this romantic haven?"

"Nine days," Joe said as he walked rapidly toward a pay phone.

"Only nine days?" Maggie asked as she tried to keep up with him.

Joe stopped suddenly and turned around quickly. "How long would you like to stay, Maggie?" he inquired. "It's only our honeymoon; we're not moving to Paris."

"Why not?" Maggie asked blissfully.

"For starters," Joe said as he once again started walking, "neither of us knows how to speak French."

"We could learn," Maggie pressed.

"We're not going to live in the city of romance, Maggie, so stop nagging me," he said as he picked up the phone, dialed a number, and reached for his dictionary, "Um, Oui, j'aimerais un taxi pour nous prendre de l'aéroport, s'il vous plait . . . Oument l'Aéroport . . . Oui, Le Métropolitain . . . Um, demi-heure?" Joe flipped through the dictionary as he found the meaning for the foreign word. "Pouvoir pas vous obtenez n'importe qui ici plus rapide? . . . Bien, merci." Joe hung up the phone, and turning to Maggie, said, "No taxi cab's gonna come by for a half an hour."

"Why not?" Maggie asked.

"They're all on call," Joe explained, "We just have to sit here."

"No, we don't!" Maggie exclaimed. "Joe, we can go anywhere we want! We can explore!"

"I'd be happy to do that with you after we get to our hotel room," Joe said tiredly.

Maggie folded her arms. "Joe, we've been in Paris ten minutes, and already you're a stick in the mud," Maggie pouted.

"You knew who I was before you married me," Joe said, wrapping his arms around her.

Maggie's expression softened, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Oh, I do love you," she said, "It's just that sometimes you don't seem as adventurous as me – like you have to keep up."

"Mm-hmm," Joe said, kissing her reddish-brown hair that she had permed right before they boarded the plane. Joe wasn't sure if he liked it; the curls made her facial features seem softer, and her cheeks were chubby as it was. But he knew Maggie could be pretty with any hairstyle. He still remembered when she dyed her hair blond; it may not have been the most flattering hairstyle, but Maggie could carry anything. "Why don't we sit down and talk until the cab driver gets here?"

"Okay," Maggie said softly.

* * *

The taxi eventually came, and they loaded their suitcases into the trunk before piling into the backseat. With a French accent, the driver said, "You two on your honeymoon?"

Maggie nodded enthusiastically, while Joe said, "Yes, sir."

"What's your hotel?" the man asked.

"Le Metropolitain," Joe replied.

"Oh," the man said knowingly, "I suppose you two are going to see the sights of Paris?"

"Yes," Maggie said forcefully, "I can't wait to sight-see. My first husband took me to Lurgan – nothing but greenery."

"Where's Lurgan?" the driver asked.

"Ireland," Maggie responded.

Joe laid a hand over Maggie's as the taxi drove up to the hotel.

* * *

"Room 791," Maggie said as the couple looked at their door. Joe pulled out the hotel room key, and swung the door opened. What was contained inside was a beautiful, huge newlywed suite. Maggie entered the room in awe, saying, "Honey, can we afford this?"

"This is Antwan's wedding present," Joe said sheepishly.

"And you let him pay for all this?" Maggie exclaimed.

"Sweetheart, I didn't want him to be offended," Joe said as he shut the door, "Besides, you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Yes, but-."

"Maggie, come on," Joe said as he held his wife tightly to him, "This is the last time you'll be in a luxury matrimonial suite; don't waste it by talking about pride." He kissed his wife on the lips passionately. Maggie pushed him back to the feather-soft bed in the corner of the room where the pale sunlight shone on the happy bodies.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two – Stuck

The first five days were bliss for the happily married couple. The toured the sights of Paris while incorporating some newlywed activities in their schedule. On the fifth day of their honeymoon, however, a sudden March rainstorm swept the city, and the two were caught in it. They escaped the full front of the storm while hiding in a cozy little café, but the next day Joe was in bed with the flu. Maggie came out of the bathroom for about the fifteenth time that day with a damp washcloth to place over Joe's head. She sat at his bedside. He looked so pale; Maggie winced as she realized that whenever he took care of her when she was ill, he probably thought the same thing. But Joe – Joe was so strong! He could overcome everything! Not the flu, she told herself.

Joe stirred and his eyes opened, so droopy that they threatened to close again. "What time is it?" Joe asked in a hoarse voice.

"Only ten o'clock," Maggie said worriedly, "Is there anything I can get you?"

Joe shook his head and turned on side, facing her. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Oh, Joe, don't be," she replied, "It's not your fault you got sick; it's nobody's fault."

"But it's our honeymoon," Joe protested.

"That doesn't make it any more your fault," Maggie said reassuringly.

Unable to stand it any longer, she stood and walked toward the phone. Joe cocked his head and said, "Maggie, what are you doing?"

"I'm calling the doctor," she said while dialing the number. Joe nodded and lay back down firmly on his pillow. "Altère Turbelle? Je vous appelle parce que mon mari est malade et a besoin de l'attention immédiate. Je suis à la Métropolitaine, à la pièce 791. Merci." She hung up and turned to her husband. "He'll be here in five minutes." Joe nodded once more as Maggie resumed her spot beside him. "Where does it hurt?" she asked.

"My chest," Joe said, "It hurts to breathe."

Maggie clapped a hand to her mouth and said, "Oh, my poor baby!"

She sat there in mute sympathy until the doctor came to their door. After he examined Joe, he took Maggie to one side and said, "It's a little more complicated than the flu, Mrs. Haskell."

"What is it?" Maggie asked, her eyes wide with terror.

"It is influenza A," he said, bowing his head, "We will have to put him on rimantadine for a week." He took out a piece of paper and wrote out a prescription. "Call me if he develops side effects."

Maggie nodded and took the paper. "Merci, doctor."

"Of course," he said and he nodded and left.

Maggie rushed to the closet and pulled out a coat. "Joe, I'm going to a pharmacy." No response. She walked tentatively over to Joe and whispered, "Joe?" She could see he was breathing; he was merely asleep. She breathed a sigh of relief and left to the nearest drugstore.

Joe spent the last three days of their honeymoon recuperating in the tender care of Maggie. As soon as he was making definite progress, they had to board a plane back to Rhode Island. Tillie and Antwan were there to meet them, as were their children. As soon as the couple approached Maggie's cousin, Antwan slapped a piece of paper in Joe's hand. Joe looked questioningly at the paper as he asked, "What's this?"

"Ted's wedding present," Antwan grinned.

"What is it, I.O.U. one cigar?" Joe smirked as he read the paper. He face slowly showed a shocked expression. "A deed?"

"Yeah," Antwan said, clapping Joe on the shoulder, "Right in our neighborhood, Good neighborhood for kids," he added, winking at Maggie.

Joe looked up and shook his head. "He shouldn't have."

"Why not?" Tillie shrugged. "He has the money for it."

"But to spend it on us . . ." Maggie's voice trailed off as she stared at the food court in the airport. There, eating a hamburger, was most assuredly Willie Loomis. She hadn't had her recurring nightmare since she got married, but Willie apparently hadn't forgotten about her. "Let's go," Maggie said forcefully.

The rest of the group looked at each other perplexedly, but Joe picked up the suitcase and they all drove home.

The house Ted bought them was enormous: two stories, with a huge garage. Tillie and Antwan had left; Tillie had gotten a headache. Joe and Maggie walked up suspiciously to the navy blue house with a spacious front yard. Giggling, Maggie said, "Ted must think we already have a brood of kids."

Joe laughed, too, as he dug in his pocket for the house key. Unlocking the door, he looked over at Maggie and said, "This is the house we're going to live in, right?"

"Right," Maggie said happily.

Immediately, Joe threw down the suitcase and picked up Maggie, carrying her over the threshold. He kissed her as he let her feet hit the floor. "I can do some things right," he grinned.

Maggie just gave him a smirk as she started exploring. The house was indeed beautiful, impeccable in every detail. "Did Ted furnish it, too?" Maggie asked in awe.

"Apparently," Joe said, rolling his eyes.

Maggie laughed and said, "What, did you want to take care of me all by yourself."

"No, Maggie, I just didn't want to owe Ted anything," Joe said, narrowing his gaze at the house, as if glaring at it would make it cringe.

Maggie set down her purse and entered the kitchen. "Is Ted that bad" she asked. "I didn't meet him."

"He's obnoxious," Joe said as he fingered the pots and pans hanging on the wall, "Trust me, you don't want to meet him."

Maggie turned around and looked at her husband. He was still slightly pale, but markedly better than when he was in Paris. She rushed over to him and hugged him, saying, "Darling, I was so worried in Paris; I'd never seen you so sick before. Oh, perhaps a stray cold now and then . . ."

"Oh, Maggie," Joe said, rubbing her back comfortingly, "It'll take more than influenza to slow me down."

Maggie buried her face in Joe's suit and continued. "I'd never seen you vulnerable before. It scared me."

Joe lifted her face so he could look at her. She was on the verge of tears, and he knew he had to act fast. He kissed her, and she kissed him back, hungry for more of his reassuring life. However, their passionate moment was interrupted by a knock at the front door. Their lips parted and Joe said, "I'll get it."

"No, no," Maggie said, walking to the door, "You're still too sick."

She opened the door, and Willie Loomis stood there, basket of fruits in hand. His face broke out into a nervous grin as he said, "Hello, Maggie. Long time, no see, huh?"

Maggie frowned at him, saying, "Hardly, Willie; you were at our wedding ten days ago."

Joe, hearing the name Willie, rushed over to Maggie's side. "What are you doing here?" Joe asked, staring at Willie like he was a hideous bug on the street.

"I just came to give y'all a welcomin' basket," Willie said innocently. He presented the basket, saying, "That's all." Maggie grabbed the basket, and after a moment's silence, Willie said, "I hope y'all are happy here."

"I'm sure we will be, Willie," Maggie said crossly as she slammed the door in Willie's face. She threw the basket on the coffee table, and leaned against a chair for support as all her anger bubbled to the surface. "The nerve of him!" she finally exploded.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Joe asked curiously as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "It's only Willie. I mean, I can deal with him if he tries anything. You know that."

Maggie turned around and stared at Joe as if he hadn't understood the gravity of the situation. "Joe, we just escaped Tom three months ago. Do we really have to deal with Willie now?"

"Well, as much as I hate being indebted to Ted, I can't really afford a house right now." Joe paused for a moment before dropping the worst news Maggie heard all day. "I'm afraid we're stuck."

"Oh, great!" Maggie yelled, stomping upstairs to the bedroom. Joe sighed exasperatedly, then rushed upstairs to join her.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three – Perfect Names

Maggie slipped off her pink slippers and slid into bed. "Joe?" she whispered lightly, only to be greeted by a snore. Rolling her eyes, she let her head hit the pillow. She really should be more understanding, she thought to herself. He is still recovering, and it probably wore him out to travel today. She closed her eyes, and the last thing she thought before she fell asleep was, "If only Willie hadn't come back . . ."

_Maggie's feet resounded as they hit the pavement. She looked around and found herself in a very bad neighborhood, but she wasn't afraid. She knew where she was going; all the wolf calls in the world couldn't stop her. The blocks and the people in them seemed to blur together. All the noise seemed muffled until she saw a street sign: Sea Street. She knew she had arrived. Looking around, she scanned the corner for a familiar face. Seeing one, she rushed over to him immediately._

_He was busy at the moment with a customer, but then turned around and greeted her with a smile. "Hello, Maggie. Never thought I'd see you around here."_

"_I know, Willie," she said as she watched the customer walk away, "I see business is picking up."_

"_Well, you know, with the recession and all . . ." He let his voice trail off, and his smile took on sinister undertones. _

_He presented her with a little baggie filled with a green, leafy substance. Maggie looked at Willie questioningly. "What's that for?" she asked._

"_A gift," he smiled._

"_I really shouldn't," she said warily._

"_C'mon, loosen up," he grinned, placing the bag in her hand._

_Maggie bit her lip and, after a moment's deliberation, placed the bag in her purse. Willie then winked at her, and she walked away._

Maggie's eyes shot open. She looked around the room, and found Joe still sleeping and dawn breaking. She slowly got up from the bed and found the purse she was wearing in the dream. It was one of her favorites: a white leather purse given to her by Sebastian on their honeymoon. Bracing herself, she looked inside. She looked everywhere, but could not find the bag. Sweating heavily, she put the purse back on the dresser and breathed deeply, saying to herself over and over, "It's only a dream. It's only a dream."

Joe lay on the couch, reading a magazine, when Maggie walked into their house. She found a job at a local restaurant last week, and resumed her career as a waitress. As she walked through the door, Joe could not help but see how beautiful she was. She was wearing a sleeveless tunic, as the days were getting warmer, and patterned stretch pants. Her feet were shamelessly exposed in white sandals, and her hair was semi-pulled back with a bow clip. Plus, Joe could see that Maggie was positively beaming. She rushed over to him and kneeled down to his height. "Hello," she smiled.

"Hello, Maggie," he said, running his hand through her reddish-brown hair.

She giggled and said, "I have wonderful news!"

"What is it?" he half-smiled.

She smiled her biggest smile and said, "I'm pregnant!"

Joe sat straight up, a dumbfounded look on his face. "What?" he said unbelievingly.

"I'm pregnant," she said again as he pulled her in for a hug. "You know I haven't been feeling myself lately. Today during my lunch break, I went to see a doctor." Joe holds her at arm's length. "He said I'm pregnant."

Joe stood from the couch and pulled Maggie to her feet. "I feel like celebrating."

"Oh?" Maggie smirked.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes sparkling, "Let's take a walk to the pier." Maggie laughed uproariously. Confused, Joe looked at her and asked, "What?"

Calming her laughter, Maggie replied, "Most men buy cigars or champagne. You take a walk on the beach."

Joe laughed and swatted her on the butt. "Let's go."

"Wait," she said, rushing upstairs, "I smell like burnt fish."

They walked hand-in-hand down the pier, looking out into the ocean. The sun was setting, and the sky was the color of Maggie's purple blouse. She leaned on Joe as the sea breeze sprayed them with salty mist. "What do you want?" she asked.

"What?" Joe asked, nonplussed.

Maggie giggled and elaborated. "What do you want for a baby – a boy or a girl?"

Joe shrugged and said, "Either one, I guess. I haven't really thought about it."

"I want a girl," Maggie said, starry-eyed, "What would you name her?"

"What about Berniece?" he asked.

Maggie nodded. "Berniece Simone Haskell," she said thoughtfully, "I like it. What about a boy's name?"

"Oh, no," Joe laughed, "Your turn."

Maggie held on to Joe's arm tighter. "How about Cyrus?"

He pulls away from her, laughing. Staring at her, he asked, "Do you want our boy to be beat up at school?"

"I think Cyrus is a very nice name," she protested.

"For a nerd," he added, still laughing.

"Well, what's your chosen name, smart guy?" she asked, hands on her hip.

"Cleveland," he said.

Maggie raised her eyebrows. "You'd name our boy after a city?"

Joe shrugged. "No one ever messes with a Cleveland. Trust me."

"Okay," Maggie said, caving, "Cleveland Brice Haskell." She looked up at her husband. "I trust you don't have any qualms about the middle name?"

"No one cares about the middle name, Maggie," Joe sighed. He looked down at her beautiful face and added, "But you pick perfect ones."

She smiled as Joe leaned down and kissed her lips. After that, they just stood in silence, watching the sun dip down beneath the sparkling sea.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four – Fidelity: To Be or Not To Be

Maggie stood in her kitchen eating cheese as she looked outside, witnessing a beautiful sunny June morning. She skipped her exercise routine that morning because of stomach cramps, but now she was feeling better, calming her craving for cheese. She had just sent Joe to the store for groceries and smiled as she remembered her hastily scribbled, incomprehensive list: sardines, anchovies, crackers, tomatoes, and pickles.

She ate the last piece of cheese, relishing every bite. She was so glad that her morning sickness had finally gone away. She smiled as she patted her stomach; two days ago they found out they were having a girl. Berniece Simone Haskell, Maggie thought to herself.

The doorbell interrupted her motherly thoughts, and she sighed and answered it; however, when she opened the door, there was no one there. She looked down and saw an envelope. Picking it up, the name on the front was hers. She creased her brow and looked around for another person, but saw no one. Shrugging, she re-entered her house and decided to open the letter. After all, it was hers, wasn't it? She read:

_Maggie,_

_I never had the courage to tell you in person what I will deliver to you in a few hours. Please don't hate me – I won't bring it up in public if you won't. We never have to mention it again; I just need to let it out._

_I love you, Maggie, and it's not the kind of love that will disappear three months from now – it's true love, and I've always felt it. All these years that I have known you, I've never been able to shake it – it's that deep._

_If you feel the way I do, Maggie, we can meet and talk. Maybe Joe isn't what you're looking for; maybe he's never been what you're looking for. Maybe we can run away together. But if you don't feel the same way, Maggie, I'd rather you'd burn the letter and never think about it again, forget I ever said anything. One way or another, I'll know._

_Sincerely in love,_

_Willie_

Maggie stood aghast in the living room, re-reading this non-anonymous love letter. Suddenly, she hears Joe's truck coming up the driveway. Panicked, she slips it into the pocket of her drawstring shorts just as he opens the door, a bag of groceries in his hand. He walks over to her, smiling. "Miss me?" he asks as he kisses her.

"Mmm-hmm," she says, taking the groceries from him, "Oh, Joe, you got everything!"

"Yeah," he said, scratching his head, "I still don't know how you'll make dinner out of that, but I got it."

Maggie stops rummaging and looks at him, a smirk on her pretty face. "Joe, this isn't dinner," she explained, "It's snack food."

"Snack food?" Joe asked laughingly.

"Baby's hungry," she said, returning to the bag.

Joe shrugged and decided to talk about something else. "Anyone come while I was away?"

Maggie paused and thought of her letter. "No," she lied.

"Okay," he said breezily, "I guess I'll go shower."

"Where are we going?" Maggie asked.

"Nowhere," Joe said confusedly, "I thought you liked it when I showered every day."

Maggie laughed. "Oh," she said, "Well, have fun."

"Oh, yeah," he joked, "It's my fav – well, second favorite thing to do."

"Need I ask your favorite?" Maggie said with mischievous eyes.

Joe laughed and walked away. "See you in a bit," he called.

"I'll be here," she yelled.

"Yeah, eating everything in sight," Joe laughed from the staircase.

As soon as Maggie heard Joe shut the bedroom door, she extracted herself from her bag of goodies and pulled out her letter. Looking at it, she shook her head and said to herself, "Why didn't I tell him about this? Why?"

That night, Joe lay in bed, sleeping. As he slept, thinking about his beautiful wife, complete with little baby daughter, he began to dream . . .

_Joe stood on the platform, looking at his watch. He knew Maggie would be here; he saw the letter. He knew._

_Soon enough, there was Maggie, walking toward the train, arm-in-arm with Willie Loomis. She looked absolutely beautiful: wearing a ruffled tan dress and gladiator heels, she looked like a woman running off with her lover, which was exactly what she was. Beside her was little Berniece, black curls bouncing, green eyes flashing. Joe was set in what he was going to do, and walked over until he was right in there path._

_Willie saw him and stopped short. "What are you doin' here?" he asked nervously._

"_I came for my wife, Willie," Joe said, his eyes flashing danger._

"_Joe-." Maggie stammered._

"_No, Maggie," he said, "No protests. You're coming with me."_

"_Joe, no," Maggie whispered, "I am not coming with you. I'm going with Willie. We both are."_

_Joe looked at her, his blue eyes smoldering. "Fine," he said in a deadly voice, "Run off with him. But you're not taking our daughter."_

"_I am, too," Maggie said, stamping her foot like a child, "She's as much mine as she is yours – more so, in fact. I had her nine months before you even saw her."_

"_More reason for me to keep her," Joe reasoned._

"_Get out of our way, Joe," Willie said, finally finding his backbone._

_Tears stinging his eyes, Joe stood strong. "No," he said, "You're not going away that easily."_

"_Yes, we are," Maggie said pushing past him._

_The three walked swiftly towards the train as smoke billowed out and the engines started. Joe ran to keep up. "You can't go away like this!" he yelled. Neither one of them answered. They boarded the train. Joe tried to follow, but the ticket-puncher pulled him back. "Maggie!" he screamed. "Maggie, please!"_

_The stairs were taken away from the train as Joe was still restrained. The train slowly pulled away, and the last Joe saw of his wife was her embrace with Willie, a man he knew he always hated . . ._

Joe awoke, beads of sweat on his brow. He looked at his wife, who was still contentedly asleep. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the vivid images, but they seemed so real. His eyes fell on Maggie's jewelry box, and he quickly ran to it. As soon as he opened it, he saw a letter, which he started to read immediately. He paled, crushing the letter, and staring at his seemingly faithful wife.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five – Five Days

Joe shook his wife awake. Maggie's eyes fluttered open and looked at her husband concernedly. "Sweetheart, what's the matter?" she asked. Joe held up Willie's letter, and Maggie saw Joe's face burning red with anger. "Honey, it was just a foolish letter."

"Why do you still have it?" Joe asked, his anger choking his words.

"For your information, I was going to burn it tomorrow," Maggie stated, starting to get mad herself.

"Why didn't you at least tell me about it?" Joe asked. "Every time I look over my shoulder, the threat of Willie Loomis is always there."

"Sweetheart, he's not a threat," Maggie said sternly, "I've never felt that way about him and I never will."

Joe backed down, still looking at the letter. "I'm sorry, Maggie," Joe said, "I just saw the letter and I guess I over-reacted."

"I'll say," Maggie said smilingly as she embraced her husband, "Still, it's good to know you're jealous for me."

"Always," Joe smirked, "Permission to tear up the letter?"

Maggie smirked, her eyes mischievous. "Permission granted."

Three months later, Maggie entered her fifth month of pregnancy. Her stomach was the size of a cantaloupe, and she had trouble moving around. Willie Loomis was forgotten around their house, never again mentioned. On this blustery September day, however, Maggie was not the happy, expecting mother; instead, she was standing in a corner of their bedroom, sadly watching her husband dress as he packed. "I'll only be gone until tomorrow, Maggie," Joe reassured his wife, "I'll be back before you know it."

"I still don't understand why you have to leave," Maggie whined, "Can't Mr. Jameson send anyone else?"

"No," Joe said simply as he zipped up his suitcase. He walked over to his wife and kissed her forehead. "Wish me luck. This is the biggest fishing expedition they've sent me on." He looked down at his wife's tearful yet angry expression. "It'll mean more money for the baby," he said, trying a new tactic.

"The baby doesn't need money, she needs her father!" Maggie screamed, storming out of the room.

Joe sighed and followed her downstairs. "Maggie, if I don't go, I'll lose my job," he said, trying to persuade her to his side. Maggie stopped and wheeled around. "You don't want that, do you?"

Maggie's angry façade crumbled as she fell into his arms, crying her heart out. "Oh, Joe, I don't know what I want!" she wailed. Picking herself up, she tried to smile. "I just know I don't want you to go."

"Maggie, it's only for a day," Joe said soothingly, "I'll be back tomorrow; you won't even know I'm gone." Maggie shook her head as Joe ran back upstairs to get his suitcase. He soon came down, and found his wife curled up on the couch. She bent over and kissed her cheek, saying, "See you later, sweetheart." Maggie moaned and turned away from him. "What's wrong?" Joe asked, a worried look in his eye.

Maggie turned back toward her husband, pouting. "You're leaving," she said sulkily.

Joe laughed and said, "See you tomorrow." Maggie watched him walk out the door before returning to her fetal position.

The next day, Joe came back from his fishing expedition, smelling like the ocean, but with high spirits. "Maggie, I'm home!" he yelled, his voice reverberating throughout the house. No answer. He began to have doubts about his wife's safety in such a big house, but he shook them away and looked in the kitchen; no Maggie. Nor was Maggie in any other part of the house. Returning to the front room, he placed his hands on his hips and said to himself, "Where can she be?"

A piece of white paper caught his eye; it was on the coffee table, under the coffee mug Maggie had given him for Christmas. Curious, he picked up the mug, and there was a letter from Maggie.

_Joe,_

_I know you're only supposed to be gone one day, but I decided to spend some time with Tillie. Come and pick me up when you're ready._

_Maggie._

Joe laughed to himself, then grabbed his car keys.

He knocked on Tillie's front door, and Maggie's blond cousin came to the door. "Oh, it's you," she said. Joe could tell she was drinking. "Come in."

Joe stepped into the house and stood by the door, refusing to come any further. He couldn't imagine why Maggie would want to spend one minute here, let alone one day. "I've come for Maggie."

"It's not time yet," she said incomprehensively.

Joe sighed. "Well, can I at least see her?"

"Maggie!" Tillie hollered up the stairs.

"What?" Joe could hear his wife say.

"Joe's here," Tillie answered before wandering off.

Joe shook his head and waited for his wife. She arrived in a sleeveless sequined blouse that they had bought together at the maternity store. Joe also noticed black leather trousers that he had never seen before. As Maggie managed the last step, she stood before Joe, a defiant look in her eye. "Come on, Maggie, we're going home," Joe declared.

"Why?" Maggie asked petulantly.

"Well, I read your note," Joe explained, "And in it, you said that you'd come back after I came back from my fishing trip."

"Did you have a good time?" Maggie asked.

"Yes, but that's not the point," Joe said, "Pack your bag, honey."

"Sweetheart, I want to stay here for a few days," Maggie said, putting her foot down.

"Why?" Joe asked.

"Because, Tillie is my cousin, and I've hardly seen her since we married," Maggie reasoned, "Besides, I need to be around someone who's been through this before."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Okay, you can stay," he said, caving, "How long are you staying for?"

"Five days," Maggie said bluntly.

"Honey-."

"Joe, I'm staying for five days, and that's it!" Maggie said, reaching up to give Joe a kiss. "See you then," she said as she walks away.

Left alone, Joe sighed and left the house. Maggie only had to deal without him for one day, and she couldn't do it alone. How was Joe going to deal without Maggie for five whole days?


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six – A Real Sandwich Ending

The fifth day of Maggie's visit to Tillie, Joe stood outside, waiting for his wife to come out. He knocked on her door, once again, and Tillie answered. "She's not ready," Tillie immediately said once she saw Joe.

"Well, can she hurry up?" Joe said irritably. "She's been here five days, she knew she was coming home today, why isn't she ready?"

"Her lower abdomen is troubling her," Tillie explained.

"What's wrong?" Joe asked, suddenly concerned. "Is something wrong with the baby?"

"No," Tillie sighed, "It's part of being pregnant. It's not easy, you know."

"I didn't think it was," Joe said defensively, "Should I be up there with her?"

"She'll be down shortly," Tillie said, slamming the door in his face.

Joe sighed and leaned against the door. Why did Maggie insist on staying here? Why couldn't she just come home before? He had never heard her talk about Tillie before they moved to Rhode Island.

Joe jerked upright as the door began to give way. The door opened, and his wife was standing there – or at least, he assumed it was his wife. With all the dilated blood vessels on her face, her usual beauty was obscured. "Ready?" he asked.

"Where's Tillie?" she asked, looking around.

"Inside," Joe answered.

"Oh, okay," Maggie said, shutting the door.

Joe stopped her and said, "Wait, where are you going?"

"To say good-bye to my cousin," Maggie said, as if it was the clearest thing in the world.

"Can't you tell her from here?" Joe asked.

"Joe!" Maggie exclaimed, exasperated.

"All right," Joe said, letting go of the door.

That night, Maggie lay in bed, dreaming of Joe . . .

_She was dressed in her wedding dress. She smiled ear-to-ear as she thought of her new husband, Joe. Finally, they were going to end up together. As she stepped up to the front doors of the church, she heard Vicky's words resounding in her ears: "Everything between you and Joe seem so perfect . . ."_

_She threw open the huge oak doors and walked calmly down the aisle, even though her heart was beating a million miles a minute. She looked around smilingly at the pews, and saw the guests dressed in black, all weeping. At the front of the groom's section, she saw Joe's mother in hysterics, rocking herself back and forth. Maggie stood in the middle of the aisle, petrified. She didn't know what to do. Tillie came forward in a sharp black outfit and said, "It's time; I'll take you." _

_She didn't know why, but she let Tillie lead her up to a shiny ebony casket in front of the church. Maggie saw Tillie look mournfully inside, but Maggie closed her eyes and looked away. "I won't!" Maggie screamed._

_Tillie placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and whispered, "You must."_

_Slowly, Maggie opened her eyes and peered inside the casket at a pale and dead Joe. Suddenly, she heard someone crying wretchedly, uncontrollably, and she thought of Joe's mother, but soon she discovered this pitiful weeping was coming from herself . . ._

Maggie jolted awake and immediately checked Joe's vital signs: all powerful and healthy. She sighed, relieved, before daring to sleep again.

The next day, Maggie woke, and smiled over at her husband's spot, but Joe wasn't there. She knew where he was: in their exercise room, getting buff. She sat up quickly, and immediately began to feel dizzy. She sighed and plopped her head back on her pillow. "Joe!" she bellowed.

In one minute flat, Joe was by her side, his blue eyes concerned. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I'm dizzy," Maggie whined.

"Oh," Joe said, "I guess you'll have to stay in bed, then. You know what the doctor said."

"But I don't want to stay in bed," Maggie pouted, sticking her lip out as she looked at Joe. Joe's laughing smile cracked her up, and her pouting façade vanished. "All right," she said, "I'll stay in bed – if you stay here with me."

"With you?" Joe asked.

"Yes," Maggie said, pulling her husband close, "I need my big, bad protector to stay with me and keep the Willies away."

"There are more than one?" Joe groaned jokingly.

"Plus," Maggie added, ignoring him, "I need someone to fetch me snacks."

"A-ha!" Joe exclaimed. "The real reason comes out!"

"Mmm-hmm," Maggie said, kissing Joe on the lips. "Oh, snack boy," she said in a sing-song.

"Oh, no," Joe groaned jokingly, "What now? Turkey and sardines on rye?"

"Sounds delicious," Maggie giggled.

"You're beautiful when you're pregnant, you know that?" Joe asked, his eyes filled with love.

"Why, thank you, sir," Maggie said in a mock Texan accent, "But I ain't payin' you to compliment me; I'm payin' you for turkey and sardine sandwiches."

"I can take a hint," Joe sighed, standing.

"Wait," Maggie said, pulling him back down, "You forgot something."

"What?" Joe asked.

"This," she said, kissing him.

As Joe pulled away, he said, "Thanks. Now I have enough strength to tackle your sandwich."

"Much obliged," Maggie laughed as Joe left for the kitchen. 


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven – The Return of an Enemy

Maggie awoke with a smile on her face. She struggled mildly out of bed, and grinned big as she saw the date on the calendar: October 31st. Like a little kid, she rushed over to Joe and shook him awake. Joe jolted and saw Maggie's smiling face above his. "It's Halloween," Maggie said excitedly.

Joe looked out the window: pitch-dark. "It's nighttime," Joe answered.

"I know, but we have a big drive today, and I want to pick out our costumes," Maggie said, slightly waddling over to the closet.

Joe sat up, and said, "I thought you took care of the costumes days ago."

"I've narrowed it down to three," Maggie said, holding up a pair of what looked like striped pajamas.

"What's that?" Joe asked curiously.

"One of our options," Maggie said, "The thief option."

"Do we really want to go to Collinwood dressed as thieves?" Joe said, walking over to his wife.

Maggie shrugged and dug in the closet again. "Joe, could you help me with this one?"

Joe sighed and pulled out a big white box. "What is it?" Joe asked, looking at all the sides.

"Dice!" Maggie gushed, "We can go as dice! Isn't that a cut couples outfit?"

"Yeah, and a way to hide your belly," Joe said half-jokingly, kissing Maggie on the head, "I don't know why you worry about Carolyn's reaction; I think she'd be happy for you."

"Without one of her own?" Maggie asked, tears in her eyes, "It's what she's always wanted and I have it – she'll resent me."

"You're worried about nothing," Joe smirked, "What's the other costume?" Maggie smiled slightly and dug out the piece d' resistance: a Spanish flamenco dancer's dress and a flamenco guitar player's outfit. Joe stared at it and said, "It's perfect!"

"Really?" Maggie said.

"Yeah!" Joe exclaimed, fingering his costume. "Is there a guitar to go with it or something?"

"Yeah," Maggie said, fishing out an old plywood guitar, "It even has a strap so you can wear it on your back."

"Maggie, I love you!" Joe exclaimed, kissing her on the cheek. He looked at her dress and added, "You'll be beautiful in that; red was always your color."

"It matches my temperament," Maggie smirked, kissing him back, "I'm glad you enjoy it."

Maggie suddenly had a strange expression on her face. "What?" Joe asked concernedly.

"I'm hungry," Maggie said, walking toward the kitchen.

That night, they arrived at dusk. Collinwood was lit up from tower to basement it seemed, and many people were lining up to enter the biggest bash of the year. As far back as Maggie could remember, the Collinses had never thrown a Halloween party – all the talk in town! – which made it all the more special that Carolyn had extended her an invitation. Joe and Maggie walked hand in hand to the door, and upon their eyes lay a sight that befuddled them.

The crowd had made a circle around what was apparently a very entertaining event, and right smack in the middle of the circle were Carolyn and Sebastian. Carolyn's eye make-up was running down her cheeks, giving her a ghastly look apart from her costume (she came as a pirate), while Sebastian looked very authoritative in his army uniform, which obviously was a costume, since he was dressed in a WWII uniform. Maggie looked around the circle, and the main expression she found was one of shock. The music had apparently stopped, and Carolyn and Sebastian were the only forms of entertainment available. "What's going on?" Maggie whispered, though she well knew that Joe had arrived with her and could not possibly know.

"I don't know," was Joe's predictable whispered answer as they stared at the two costumed figures.

"I don't know what the matter is with you tonight," Sebastian said in a calm, quiet tone. He seemed to have noticed the crowd surrounding them. "We've been dating for over a year. Why won't you marry me?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Mr. Shaw," Carolyn said, every word bitingly loud and bitter, "I am a widow. How dare you ask me to break the solemn vows I shared with Jeb?"

"Jeb has been dead for six years!" Sebastian said, raising his voice. "Give it a rest!"

"The same goes for you!" Carolyn spat, stomping up the stairs. Sebastian grabbed her arm when she reached half-way. "Let go of my arm!" Carolyn yelled, vigorously trying to wrench it out of Sebastian's grasp.

Sebastian and Carolyn stared at each other for a long moment, each one trying to win this test of wills. Sebastian finally sighed and let Carolyn resume her stomping privilege. He turned back to the crowd, an embarrassed look on his face. "Sorry, everyone," Sebastian said, shame-faced, "Please – resume the festivities."

Soon, everyone started milling about, taking Sebastian's advice. Joe and Maggie stood at the doorway, frozen. "Maybe we should go," Maggie whispered.

"Nonsense," Joe whispered back, trying to shake the sense that something was drastically wrong, "We were invited; let's make the best of it, okay?"

"Okay," Maggie smiled, looking into her handsome husband's blue eyes as she kissed him on tip-toe.

The happy couple entered the house and chatted with several people they knew from growing up in such a small, friendly town. One couple, though, Maggie made sure to stay away from: Barnabas and Julia. Maggie found it very ironic that Barnabas decided to dress up as a vampire, and Julia obviously just scoured the trunks until she found a Victorian dress. Maggie pondered why Barnabas would wear something so obvious, but she realized that he had become such a staple here that no one would question him.

Maggie turned her attention back to Joe, who was slightly ahead of her. She started to walk over to him, but accidentally bumped into a man wearing a Super Mario costume. "Sorry," Maggie said apologetically.

"No problem," the man said smilingly. Since the moustache obliterated much of his face, she couldn't make out who it was. The way that he was staring at her – that's what scared her the most. She quickly turned away and found Joe.

"She's pregnant!" the man said in his own thoughts. "Oh, well, that can be easily repaired. The point is that I have found her again, and she will be mine again, or my name isn't Tom Jennings!"


End file.
